What Is Vs What Should Be

I wish that when one pointed out accurately that the other person was wrong, the other person would embrace the truth, but that’s not how the world works.

If you don’t see clearly what is, it’s hard to give prescriptions for making what is better.

One obstacle to conversation between liberals and the right is that one side is usually arguing for what should be with the kingly power of reason (I think this is the liberal side usually) while the trad side talks primarily about what is.

For example, New York Times liberal Ezra Klein says to nationalist Israeli scholar Yoram Hazony:

Listen, America is this grand experiment, and what holds that experiment together is the liberal tolerance of division, disagreement and difference. And that the people in that experiment need to be committed to one another, to our shared institutions, to elections and the peaceful transfer of power — and that what is going wrong is a dissolving commitment to that. In a way, Joe Biden could be making that argument to me.

But national conservatism is making some other argument than that. It’s not making an argument that we need more decency from our politicians or we need just more commitment to the abstract institutions of democracy and the other political party — because I agree with all that.

A nationalist might respond: I agree that in a nation, “The people in that experiment need to be committed to one another, to our shared institutions, to elections and the peaceful transfer of power — and that what is going wrong is a dissolving commitment to that.” That is a civic ideal. But how do we get there? From a nationalist perspective, the more we have in common with each other, the more naturally we will trust each other.

The liberal believes in the power of the individual’s capacity for autonomous strategic thinking. The trad believes that we are not primarily individuals, that we are not primarily living in a buffered identity, and that our cognitive powers are much weaker than our genetic and cultural predispositions and that we should base our politics on what is rather than on what should be.

From a trad perspective, liberalism is just one tool in the tool box to make a better nation. The nation does not serve liberalism. Liberalism, to the extent you use it, should serve the people.

Everything, with few exceptions, should serve the nation. Free markets and free trade and socialism and tariffs and government funding of science and international alliances should all be employed to the extent that they increase the dignity, safety and well-being of your people. The nation’s leaders should not act experimentally in the service of ideas.

Principles are nice but for most people, they function primarily as cues to emotion that spring from our bonds to people we know. Music moves us, not from the logic of its words and notes, but from how it makes us feel. Nationalism is something we feel more than think. Rationality is not usually our primary driver.

Just because the Nazis believed in blood and soil does not mean that the common emotions that spring from ties of blood and soil are bad and should be denied. Sometimes it is adaptive to speak up for the importance of ties of blood and soil, and in other situations, it is more adaptive to emphasize other bonds such as religion or civic identity. Nationalism always contains a racial element, a civic element, a religious element, a cultural element, and other elements. For some, their nationalism will primarily be ideological, for others it will be primarily civic, for others it will be primarily religious, and for others it will be primarily racial. These commitments are not exclusive. People are complicated. If you can get people rowing in the same direction, it doesn’t matter that their primary motivations differ. You want your people rowing in the same direction. For some Jews, for example, their primary devotion is to Torah. For others, their primary devotion is to Israel. For others, their primary devotion is to their family. These different sources of motivation can lead these Jews to rowing together. It’s the same for all nations.

Posted in Nationalism | Comments Off on What Is Vs What Should Be

What’s Wrong With Stereotypes?

Philosopher Michael Huemer writes:

Stereotypes are generally accurate, except that they tend to understate real differences. There is basically no evidence that stereotypes tend to lead to inaccurate judgments. Psychologist Lee Jussim describes stereotype accuracy as “one of the largest and most replicable effects in all of social psychology”…

Opposition to stereotyping in general is incoherent, unless you want to oppose learning. The idea that it is bad in general to form generalizations about groups is on its face crazy. Nor is there anything objectively offensive about recognizing group differences. Being “offended” by the recognition of patterns in the world is not really something that a serious, adult thinker does.

Posted in Stereotypes | Comments Off on What’s Wrong With Stereotypes?

Bill Buckley’s Limitations As A Writer Reflected Bill Buckley’s Limitations As A Thinker

Your writing is a mirror to your mind.

A limited ability to write is usually an accurate reflection of a limited ability to think.

Buckley’s limitations as a writer reflect his limitations as a man.

Sam Tanenhaus argues that William F. Buckley Jr. was far more of a performing ideologue than a serious intellectual: a charismatic debater and journalist, not a deep-thinking philosopher. Tanenhaus repeatedly points out that Buckley “did not think long or deeply. He was an intellectual entertainer … a controversialist, not a thinker” (Law & Liberty, Law & Liberty 2, WSJ, New Yorker, Democracy Journal, TLS, Quillette, Washington Post, Guardian, The Atlantic).

He faulted Buckley for failing to produce a sustaining conservative theory—he never wrote that definitive book on conservatism akin to Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France. His attempted Revolt Against the Masses remained incomplete, and Tanenhaus implies Buckley was “very good at discussing books he hadn’t read,” wielding style over substance (Claremont Review of Books).

Tanenhaus also critiques Buckley’s lack of rigorous research: he bragged about writing columns in twenty minutes and books on vacation, suggesting he disliked the work of research and stitched together political writing that sounded knowledgeable but lacked depth (Niskanen Center, New Yorker, Claremont Review of Books).

In short: Tanenhaus sees Buckley’s limitations as rooted in his preference for performance over philosophy, his inability to lay out enduring ideas, and a stylistic flair unaccompanied by intellectual seriousness.

Here are other common critques:

  1. Cribbing and intellectual laziness
    Recent reviews highlight instances where Buckley borrowed heavily from writers like Garry Wills—even his own colleagues—leading to accusations of conceptual plagiarism. Critics argue this reflects his selective loyalty and distaste for rigorous authorship
    (Democracy Journal).
  2. Style over substance
    Buckley often favored rhetorical flair and quick hot takes over deep research. He boasted of writing columns in 20 minutes and entire books on vacation, a habit that critics argue prioritized theatrical performance over intellectual weight
    (The New Yorker).
  3. Lack of coherent conservative theory
    Though influential, Buckley never produced a definitive ideological work comparable to Burke’s or Rawls’. Critics say he lacked a comprehensive, durable conservative philosophy and leaned instead on polemics and personality-driven discourse
    (The UnPopulist).
  4. Elitist and sometimes incoherent worldview
    Buckley’s prose, while witty, sometimes included “inappropriate metaphors and inelegant syntax,” and he earned criticism for folding personal prejudices—racial or classist—into his conservative lens, undermining the clarity and moral grounding of his arguments
    (Wikipedia).
  5. Superficial engagement with civil‑rights issues
    Though he shifted over time, Buckley’s early opposition to federal civil rights legislation and his paternalistic framing of race issues have been viewed as snobbish rather than principled. Critics suggest his later regret lacked full accountability for earlier positions
    (William Hogeland).

Bill Buckley’s Limitations as a Writer Reflected Bill Buckley’s Limitations as a Thinker

William F. Buckley Jr. is often remembered as the founding father of modern American conservatism, but his legacy as a thinker is inseparable from his limitations as a writer. In both form and substance, Buckley frequently chose performance over philosophy, flourish over depth. As Sam Tanenhaus argues in The New Yorker, Buckley was “an intellectual entertainer … a controversialist, not a thinker.”

Rather than producing a comprehensive conservative philosophy, Buckley preferred to react—through columns, debates, and editorials. He never wrote the conservative equivalent of John Rawls’ A Theory of Justice or Edmund Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France. His attempt at a big theoretical book, tentatively titled Revolt Against the Masses, was left unfinished (Claremont Review of Books).

His writing style mirrored this superficiality. Buckley famously boasted of writing columns in under 30 minutes and entire books while on vacation—an approach that prioritized cleverness and speed over research and rigor (Niskanen Center). Tanenhaus points out that Buckley often sounded authoritative on topics he hadn’t actually studied in depth, making him, in effect, “very good at discussing books he hadn’t read.”

At the core of Buckley’s approach was an elite sensibility, expressed through ornate vocabulary, elevated tone, and a clubby insiderism that appealed more to aesthetic than intellectual clarity. Critics noted that he used language not always to illuminate but to signal superiority—what Wikipedia calls “inappropriate metaphors and inelegant syntax.”

In substance, this same elitism colored his political views. His early defense of segregation, rejection of civil rights legislation, and slow evolution on race weren’t just moral blind spots—they were ideological evasions. As William Hogeland documents, Buckley never fully reckoned with the implications of his earlier stances. His prose evaded, rather than confronted, the hard moral reckonings at the center of 20th-century American politics.

In short, Buckley’s writing was not only flashy and fast—it was ideologically thin. His strengths as a polemicist masked his weaknesses as a philosopher. What made him effective in debate—wit, charisma, agility—left his intellectual legacy lighter than it first appears. As Democracy Journal notes, Buckley was less a builder of ideas than a broker of personalities and institutions. His writing and thinking, alike, were shaped more by posture than principle.

Comparing Buckley, Tanenhaus & Caldwell on Civil Rights and Writing

1. Buckley’s Early Views in the 1950s

In 1957, Buckley wrote in National Review that white Southerners were “entitled” to segregation until Black Americans attained sufficient cultural development—a position rooted in racial paternalism and denial of structural inequality (Wikipedia – Buckley on segregation). He argued in the famed 1965 Baldwin–Buckley Cambridge debate that racial inequality reflected cultural failings, not systemic injustice (Baldwin–Buckley debate – Wikipedia). His ideology favored individual responsibility and cultural explanations.

2. Buckley’s Superficial Shift in the 1960s–70s

After the Birmingham church bombing of 1963, Buckley softened his views: he condemned segregation publicly, endorsed affirmative action, and even commented that a Black president would be a “welcome tonic for the American soul” (Guardian review, Washington Post). Tanenhaus sees this shift not as moral courage but as pragmatic repositioning to protect Buckley’s conservative brand (Washington Post review, WSJ review).

3. Buckley’s Writing Mirrors Ideological Thinness

Buckley once bragged he could pen a magazine column in under 20 minutes and entire books while on vacation. Tanenhaus notes he was “good at discussing books he hadn’t read” and that he avoided deep research in favor of rhetorical flair. He describes Buckley as “an intellectual entertainer … a controversialist, not a thinker” (New Yorker review, WSJ review).

4. Tanenhaus’s View of Civil Rights and His Writing Style

Tanenhaus treats Buckley’s early segregationism and later evolution as emblematic of an ideological style rooted in aesthetic over analysis. He emphasizes that Buckley never fully confronted the moral failure of his earlier positions. As a writer, Tanenhaus is widely praised for scholarly rigor, archival depth, and narrative clarity. Critics in Claremont Review of Books and Quillette call him “gifted,” conscientious, and disciplined in sourcing (Claremont Review of Books, Quillette review).

5. Caldwell’s Thesis on Civil Rights

Christopher Caldwell’s The Age of Entitlement argues that the 1964 Civil Rights Act effectively created a second, conflicting constitution—a “rival constitution” emphasizing identity-based rights enforced by courts and bureaucracy (“a second constitution … frequently incompatible” with the original) (Wikipedia – Caldwell’s constitutional thesis, Claremont Review of Books, Washington Post).

6. Caldwell’s Writing Style & Critique

Caldwell is known for wide-ranging, essayistic prose: conceptually bold, provocative, and highly quotable. American Affairs praises his intellectual punch, while Dissent cautions that he often frames sweeping polemics with selectivity and emotional resonance, rather than extensive documentation (American Affairs, Dissent).

7. Direct Contrast: Tanenhaus vs. Caldwell on Civil Rights

  • Tanenhaus argues that Buckley’s civil rights evolution lacked philosophical depth, motivated by optics rather than moral clarity, and mirrored his superficial prose.
  • Caldwell positions civil rights legislation itself as the catalyst for a new constitutional order—balancing moral intent against unintended political consequences.
  • Tanenhaus critiques Buckley’s style‑first approach, while Caldwell’s argument is matched by his own essayistic, polemical style—provocative and analytical but sometimes lightly sourced.
  • In effect: Buckley’s ideological and literary superficiality is unpacked by Tanenhaus’s scholarly prose; Caldwell critiques civil rights as structural shift with prose to match his historical-theoretical ambition.

Stephen Turner on Buckley, Tanenhaus, Caldwell, and Civil Rights as Claims to Expertise

1. Buckley: Performance as Authority

Stephen Turner, a leading scholar of expertise and the sociology of knowledge (Wikipedia – Stephen P. Turner), would likely interpret William F. Buckley Jr. as someone who accrued authority through performance, rather than epistemic rigor. Buckley’s quick-witted style, theatrical debate skills, and institutional power at National Review gave him the cultural capital of a public intellectual without the methodological or empirical depth typically associated with expertise (New Yorker – Tanenhaus on Buckley).

Turner might frame Buckley’s charisma as a form of symbolic capital—not rooted in scholarly production, but in his ability to define which views counted as intellectually “serious.” He helped shape the expert field of conservative thought while actively resisting its institutionalization through traditional means (e.g., peer review, theoretical rigor).

2. Tanenhaus: The Archivist of Authority

Sam Tanenhaus would likely be seen by Turner as a practitioner of archival expertise. His critical biography of Buckley is grounded in deep documentation, institutional memory, and narrative framing. Tanenhaus discredits Buckley not simply by pointing out where he was wrong—but by showing how shallow and stylistic his ideological commitments were (Washington Post – Book Review, WSJ – “Intellectual Entertainer”).

In Turner’s terms, Tanenhaus is performing second-order expertise: critiquing how Buckley’s authority was manufactured and legitimized through performance rather than substance. His own authority emerges from his thoroughness, his use of archives, and his moral seriousness in evaluating political legacies.

3. Caldwell: Authority by Theoretical Boldness

Christopher Caldwell’s argument in The Age of Entitlement would likely strike Turner as a classic case of assertive conceptual expertise. Caldwell proposes that the Civil Rights Act of 1964 created a “rival constitution,” fundamentally altering American political order. It’s not a legal argument in the scholarly sense—it’s a bold interpretive thesis aimed at reconfiguring how readers understand American governance (Claremont Review of Books, Washington Post – Critique of Caldwell).

Turner might say Caldwell’s expertise rests on narrative confidence rather than methodological consensus. His writing is clear, forceful, and structured, but often selective in engagement. It draws its authority from rhetorical design and theoretical ambition, not from consensus-building among legal scholars or historians.

4. Civil Rights as a Contest Over Expert Authority

Turner would likely view the civil rights debate here not simply as moral or political—but as a clash over who gets to define social reality. Buckley used elite positioning and prose to justify segregation under the guise of cultural hierarchy. Tanenhaus challenges that authority through documented moral critique. Caldwell reclaims authority by reframing the legal aftermath of the Civil Rights Movement as a constitutional rupture.

5. Summary Table: How Expertise Operates

ThinkerMode of AuthorityExpertise Style
William F. Buckley Jr.Charisma, institutional control, stylistic dominancePerformative and polemical
Sam TanenhausArchival mastery, biographical excavationSober, moral-historical, source-rich
Christopher CaldwellTheoretical redefinition, cultural narrativeBold, structured, polemical
Stephen Turner (meta-view)Sociologist of how all the above construct legitimacyAnalyzes how rhetorical and institutional forces shape what counts as “expertise”

Carl Schmitt’s Take on the Buckley–Tanenhaus–Caldwell Debate

1. Authority as Decision—not Research

Carl Schmitt, known for defining sovereignty as the power to decide in moments of crisis (“the sovereign is he who decides on the exception”), would see William F. Buckley Jr.’s authority as built on rhetorical theater and ideological positioning rather than substantive expertise (Stanford Encyclopedia – Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political – Wikipedia).

2. Buckley as Performative Expert

Schmitt would likely interpret Buckley’s rapid, stylish columns and persona-driven commentary as akin to “symbolic decisionism”: authority through performance, not through epistemic deliberation. Buckley makes declarative political judgments, not scholarly ones.

3. Tanenhaus: Institutional Critic as Counter‑Sovereign

Tanenhaus, providing archival critique and moral judgment, would attract Schmitt’s suspicion. Schmitt believed political legitimacy comes from decision, not moral historiography. He might see Tanenhaus’s archival depth as a challenge to performative sovereignty—a kind of critique that lacks its own decisional center.

4. Caldwell: Thesis as Political Intervention

Caldwell’s “rival constitution” argument in The Age of Entitlement aligns metaphorically with Schmitt’s idea of political order redefined by decisions. Caldwell isn’t proposing emergency powers—but he is redefining constitutional legitimacy through polemical narrative. Schmitt would appreciate the decisional quality: a strong theoretical claim meant to reshape the political imagination.

5. Civil Rights & Political Conflict

Under Schmitt’s lens, the civil‑rights debate becomes less about morality and more about who defines friend/enemy categories and claims legitimacy. Buckley defined segregationists as a substantive cultural “other.” Tanenhaus argues back via moral-historical depth—but lacks decisive closure. Caldwell reframes rights legislation as a constitutional rupture, redefining the boundaries themselves.

6. Summary Table: Schmitt’s Grand View

FigureMode of AuthoritySchmitt’s Likely Judgment
BuckleyRhetorical persona, public decisionismReal authority without depth—style over scholarly substance
TanenhausArchival moral critique, historical methodCultural authority, but lacks the decisive act—more historian than sovereign
CaldwellTheoretical reinterpretation of rightsForms new intellectual order—fitting Schmittian decisionist logic

What Would Rony Guldmann Say About Buckley, Tanenhaus, and Caldwell?

1. Buckley: The Self-Installed Aristocrat

Rony Guldmann, in his manuscript Conservative Cultural Oppression, frames William F. Buckley Jr. not just as a charismatic figure but as a cultural gatekeeper—someone who deployed “aristocratic hauteur” to elevate himself above both mass conservatism and democratic egalitarianism. Buckley’s shift on civil rights is read as performative: a rhetorical adjustment to maintain elite respectability without real ideological transformation.

Guldmann argues Buckley’s genteel racism and patrician tone created a form of exclusionary sophistication—a way of justifying elite dominance while claiming moral detachment. His writing, while stylish, functioned more like a brand than a philosophy. This aligns with Tanenhaus’s critique in The New Yorker of Buckley as “an intellectual entertainer.”

2. Tanenhaus: The Liberal Clerk

Guldmann is sharply critical of what he calls the “liberal intellectual priesthood.” In his view, writers like Sam Tanenhaus play the role of cultural clerks—archivists of moral failure who use hindsight to judge prior generations and reinforce current liberal norms. Tanenhaus’s methodical dismantling of Buckley’s inconsistencies is, to Guldmann, less about truth than about institutional discipline: deciding who gets to remain in the canon of acceptable public thought.

In this light, Tanenhaus’s archival rigor and moral tone are tools of what Guldmann calls “respectability enforcement.” He might say that Tanenhaus replaces Buckley’s aristocratic judgment with technocratic-moral judgment—both forms of elite cultural policing.

3. Caldwell: Reaction with Moral Intent

Though Guldmann doesn’t address Christopher Caldwell directly, his critique of “right-wing lamentation” maps neatly onto Caldwell’s thesis in The Age of Entitlement. Caldwell argues that the Civil Rights Act created a “rival constitution,” displacing the Founders’ vision with an identity-based legal regime.

Guldmann would likely see this not as legal theory, but as a cultural grievance: a mourning of lost conservative authority wrapped in constitutional rhetoric. Like Buckley, Caldwell’s style carries the air of elite detachment, but his project is reactionary: to redefine legitimacy by asserting the trauma of liberal victory.

4. The Deeper Conflict: Cultural Sovereignty

Ultimately, Guldmann frames these debates as contests over cultural sovereignty: who defines the terms of moral seriousness, who gets labeled a “serious thinker,” and who polices the boundaries of public discourse. In this framework:

  • Buckley claimed sovereignty through class-coded performance and gatekeeping.
  • Tanenhaus reclaims that sovereignty through moral documentation and institutional critique.
  • Caldwell mourns its loss and seeks restoration via historical narrative and constitutional reframing.

Guldmann’s overarching point is that both sides engage in what he calls conservative cultural oppression: policing dissent through elite norms—whether liberal or traditionalist. It’s not a battle over truth, but over who gets to speak with authority.

What Would Darel E. Paul Say About Buckley, Tanenhaus, and Caldwell?

1. Buckley as Precursor to Elite Progressivism

Darel E. Paul would likely see William F. Buckley Jr. as a transitional figure—an elite conservative who, despite his opposition to liberal cultural trends, ultimately shared in the elite class’s desire for respectability. Paul argues that America’s ruling class shifted from a “bourgeois moral consensus” to a “sacralized egalitarianism” led by professionals and cultural elites.

From this view, Buckley’s rhetorical flair and eventual softening on civil rights would be interpreted not as genuine transformation but as elite adaptation—just enough alignment with the new moral consensus to remain culturally relevant. His embrace of respectability politics would mark him, in Paul’s framework, as a conservative still beholden to elite status games.

2. Tanenhaus as Elite Enforcement Mechanism

Paul would almost certainly place Sam Tanenhaus in the role of cultural enforcer. Tanenhaus’s moral critique of Buckley fits Paul’s model of “elite progressivism” deploying moral universalism to police past and present dissent. Paul sees liberal elites as elevating equality to sacred status and demanding conformity through institutional and cultural pressure.

Thus, Tanenhaus’s critique of Buckley’s racial views wouldn’t just be about civil rights—it would be, in Paul’s terms, a ritual act of purification, aimed at establishing who may be admitted to the pantheon of “serious” intellectuals. Tanenhaus would be a priestly figure in what Paul calls the sacralized regime of diversity and inclusion.

3. Caldwell as Apostate Elite

Christopher Caldwell would likely be read by Paul as an apostate from elite consensus. In The Age of Entitlement, Caldwell argues that civil rights law fundamentally restructured American governance. Paul would agree with this premise, noting how rights-based liberalism replaced older constitutional norms with a managerial regime of identity-based redistribution and moral control.

Where Paul extends Caldwell’s logic is in pointing to elite complicity—that even conservative institutions have been folded into this new moral order. Caldwell sees a legal transformation; Paul sees a cultural hegemony, enforced not just by courts but by HR departments, media, universities, and credentialed gatekeepers like Tanenhaus.

4. Summary: Sacralized Authority and Cultural Policing

  • Buckley anticipates modern conservative elites who accommodate progressive values to preserve elite status.
  • Tanenhaus represents moral enforcement by the secular priesthood of liberal elites, purging ideological deviation.
  • Caldwell critiques the system’s rules—but Paul would say he understates how deeply entrenched this sacralized order has become in every domain of elite life.

Paul would frame the entire discourse as a clash not just of ideologies or writing styles—but of rival priesthoods fighting over cultural legitimacy.

What Would Helen Andrews Say About the Buckley–Tanenhaus–Caldwell Dispute?

1. Buckley: Eloquence Without Resolve

Helen Andrews often critiques conservative elites who fail to translate rhetoric into real-world consequences. From that standpoint, she might regard William F. Buckley Jr. as a talented stylist whose genteel conservatism lacked the force needed to defend social order. Buckley’s eventual shift on civil rights, motivated more by elite consensus than principled reckoning, might strike Andrews as symbolic of the right’s perennial fear of being called names.

Her own analysis of Australian authorities in the grooming gang cases lauds unapologetic action over elite self-regard. By contrast, she might see Buckley’s posturing and equivocation—especially on race and civil rights—as the kind of weakness that allowed progressive hegemony to harden.

2. Tanenhaus: Clerical Scolding Without Responsibility

Andrews would likely place Sam Tanenhaus in the camp of “managerial liberalism,” offering post hoc judgment rather than real-time action. In his critique of Buckley, Tanenhaus emphasizes moral shortcomings, but Andrews might argue that he avoids the harder question of how liberalism itself facilitated social disorder while silencing efforts to name it.

Andrews’s own praise for Australia’s refusal to suppress the ethnic dimension of rape gangs would likely contrast with Tanenhaus’s alignment with liberal taboos. She values uncomfortable truth-telling over retrospective moral clarity.

3. Caldwell: The Realist of Structural Change

Christopher Caldwell’s The Age of Entitlement argues that civil rights law fundamentally reshaped American sovereignty. Andrews would likely sympathize with Caldwell’s structural view of liberal dominance, especially given her emphasis on how Western societies have sacrificed communal security in the name of multicultural idealism.

She might see Caldwell, not Tanenhaus, as the more serious analyst: someone willing to examine the trade-offs and political disempowerment that resulted from elite liberal norms. If Tanenhaus focuses on personal racism, Caldwell focuses on institutional inversion—a theme that aligns more with Andrews’s warnings about what happens when native norms are displaced without resistance.

4. Helen Andrews’s Frame: Authority, Not Acceptance

In her essay, Andrews writes that “territory is about norms, not laws.” That line could easily double as a critique of both Buckley’s rhetorical conservatism and Tanenhaus’s retrospective liberalism. She champions the assertion of communal will—especially when it comes to defending the vulnerable—over elite respectability or moral nostalgia.

She would argue that Australia succeeded where the UK failed because its leaders were unafraid to name the threat, assert the majority’s moral norms, and act decisively. That instinct is closer to Caldwell’s realism than Tanenhaus’s clerical liberalism or Buckley’s patrician stylings.

What Would an Australian Bogan Say About All This?

“Mate, it’s all just a bunch of wankers arguin’ over who gets to write the rulebook. Buckley was some silver-tongued ponce who talked a lot without doin’ much. Tanenhaus is havin’ a go at him years later like a schoolteacher with a grudge. And that Caldwell bloke? He’s just tellin’ everyone the game was rigged the minute civil rights showed up. Boo hoo.”

“None of ’em have probably walked the rough end of town. They write books, do fancy debates, get published in places with names like The New Yorker and reckon they’re authorities on the people. Meanwhile, the people are out there dealin’ with the mess they pretend to analyze.”

“You know who gets it? That Helen Andrews chick. She at least had the guts to say the quiet part out loud in that grooming gangs essay. She reckons it’s about norms, not just bloody ‘values’ and hand-wringin’. And she’s right. If you want your country not to go to shit, you gotta be willing to say no—and not just in a book club.”

Final take? “Buckley’s too posh, Tanenhaus too smug, Caldwell too doomy. I’ll take someone who calls it like it is, doesn’t care who they offend, and isn’t afraid to act. The rest can keep writin’ their 500-page diaries.”

Posted in Conservatives | Comments Off on Bill Buckley’s Limitations As A Writer Reflected Bill Buckley’s Limitations As A Thinker

The American Bar Association Pushes Anti-White Discrimination

Attorney Alison Somin writes:

Law schools are desperately changing hiring and admissions policies to increase diversity—not because of their own internal objectives, but because of pressure from accrediting agencies.

New research from Pacific Legal Foundation reveals how the American Bar Association (ABA) pressures public law schools to adopt race- and sex-based hiring and admissions preferences. Through its accreditation standards, the American Bar Association (ABA)— which oversees U.S. law school accreditation—wields enormous power to dictate how law schools operate regarding questions of race and sex, potentially in violation of Title VI and the Constitution. Since most states require bar exam candidates to have graduated from an ABA-accredited law school, losing accreditation would be catastrophic for a law school and its students.

The report, based on Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests sent to the 50 best public law schools (as ranked by U.S. News and World Report), confirms what legal insiders have speculated for years: Accreditors use their quasi-governmental authority to push institutions toward likely unconstitutional and unlawful practices. Among the 45 schools that responded to the survey, 20 received commentary from accreditors that explicitly highlighted their failure to meet the ABA’s diversity standards, such as having too few minority or female faculty and lacking diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) task forces.

Rather than pushing back against accreditors’ claims, many schools feel pressured into making changes to satisfy accreditors’ demands. For example, the ABA investigated George Mason University School of Law extensively starting in 2000 for supposed violations of its diversity standards and only gave up after the school shifted its admissions strategy to achieve the racial numbers the ABA wanted. In 2006, newly established Charleston School of Law failed to gain ABA accreditation over concern about insufficient racial diversity. The school ultimately gained accreditation after it agreed to appoint a director of diversity.

These diversity standards don’t just fall into ethically questionable territory—they’re often illegal.

In Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard (2023), the Supreme Court affirmed that race-based admissions in higher education violate the Constitution’s Equal Protection Clause. Moreover, laws in states like California and Florida prohibit public institutions from using racial preferences. Nonetheless, the ABA’s standards—especially Standard 206, which focuses on diversity and inclusion—appear to flout these laws. In fact, until recently, the ABA openly claimed that a law school couldn’t cite a state anti-discrimination law as a defense for failing to satisfy accreditation diversity requirements.

Policymakers have grown increasingly alarmed over the unlawful pressures of accreditation. Iowa legislator Henry Stone recently wrote in The Wall Street Journal about how accreditors effectively nullified his state’s rollback of DEI banmandates. And just this year, President Trump issued an executive order directing the Department of Education (ED) to “hold accountable” accreditors who violate federal law by requiring institutions to engage in unlawful discrimination.

Unfortunately, an executive order isn’t enough to bring about lasting change. Although the ABA recently agreed to temporarily suspend enforcement of its diversity standards, legislative reform would bar accreditors from pressuring institutions of higher education to violate civil rights laws.

A proposed amendment to the Higher Education Act (HEA) would do just that. The amendment would prevent the ED from recognizing any accreditor that imposes admissions or hiring requirements based on race or sex. It would preserve a school’s right to adopt its own lawful policies, regardless of whether they align with the political views of accrediting agencies.

Accreditation standards should help ensure that all students receive adequate preparation to embark on their legal careers rather than imposing arbitrary demographic requirements on schools. Every aspiring attorney, regardless of their race or sex, deserves an equal opportunity to pursue their dream. It’s time for law school accreditors to stop pressuring law schools into obtaining arbitrary demographic results and start embodying our nation’s principles of equality and opportunity.

Promoting equal opportunity doesn’t require mandating demographic quotas—it requires removing barriers so that all applicants can compete on a level and fair playing field.

Posted in Law | Comments Off on The American Bar Association Pushes Anti-White Discrimination

Elite Rule

Do elites rule America? Are American elites united? How close are American elites to division, thus undermining elite rule? “Elites rule through particular strategies and fail through typical issues. Elite solidarity is essential to elite rule; division among the elite is a typical cause of elite failure.” (Stephen Turner)

An attack on pluralism is an attack on elite rule, says Turner.

Grok says:

Pluralism, in a political or social context, refers to a system or society where multiple groups, interests, or ideologies coexist, compete, and share influence. It emphasizes diversity of perspectives and the distribution of power among various factions, rather than its concentration in a single group. Elite rule, often associated with elitism or oligarchy, describes a system where a small, privileged group holds disproportionate power or influence over society, whether through wealth, status, expertise, or institutional control.

At first glance, the statement seems counterintuitive because pluralism and elite rule are often seen as opposing frameworks. Pluralism suggests a diffusion of power, while elite rule implies its concentration. However, the statement could be interpreted in a few ways, depending on the perspective

:Pluralism as a Facade for Elite Rule: One interpretation is that pluralism, in practice, can serve as a mechanism to sustain elite rule. In a pluralist system, elites may dominate key institutions (e.g., media, finance, politics) while allowing a veneer of diverse voices to create the illusion of shared power. An attack on pluralism—say, by consolidating power into a single ideology or authority—could disrupt this arrangement by exposing or challenging the elites’ ability to maintain control through managed diversity. In this sense, undermining pluralism might threaten the stability of elite rule by removing the framework that legitimizes their influence.

Pluralism as a Tool of Elite Competition: Another angle is that pluralism enables competition among elites, allowing different elite factions (e.g., corporate leaders, political parties, cultural influencers) to vie for influence within a structured system. An attack on pluralism, such as the rise of authoritarianism or a singular ideology, could suppress this competition, forcing elites to either consolidate into a narrower ruling group or lose influence altogether. Thus, pluralism could be seen as a necessary condition for elite rule in a fragmented, competitive form.

Elites—broadly defined as individuals or groups with disproportionate influence over political, economic, cultural, or social systems—undeniably shape America’s direction, though “rule” implies a level of centralized control that may oversimplify reality. America’s system is pluralistic, with checks and balances, but elites exert outsized influence through:

Political Elites: Elected officials, bureaucrats, and advisors (e.g., Congress, senior civil servants, think tank leaders) shape policy. For example, lobbying by corporate interests and political donations (e.g., Super PACs) amplify elite influence. In 2020, the top 100 donors (mostly wealthy individuals or corporations) contributed over $2 billion to political campaigns, per OpenSecrets.org.

Economic Elites: Corporate leaders, Wall Street executives, and billionaires (e.g., Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk) influence markets and policy through wealth and networks. The top 1% own over 32% of U.S. wealth (Federal Reserve, 2023), giving them leverage over economic priorities.

Cultural Elites: Media, academic, and entertainment figures shape narratives. For instance, major news outlets and tech platforms (e.g., Google, legacy media) gatekeep information, influencing public opinion.

However, “rule” doesn’t mean absolute control. The U.S. has democratic mechanisms—elections, free speech, judicial review—that limit elite dominance. Public movements (e.g., Tea Party, Occupy Wall Street, or recent populist surges) can challenge elite agendas. Yet, elites often adapt, co-opting or neutralizing dissent (e.g., corporate adoption of “woke” branding).

Are American Elites United?

American elites are not a monolith; they’re a loose coalition of competing factions with shared and divergent interests. Turner’s point about elite solidarity being essential to rule holds here: unity amplifies influence, but division is ever-present. Elites align on certain goals but fracture on others:Shared Interests: Most elites support maintaining the status quo of globalized capitalism, U.S. geopolitical dominance, and institutional stability. For example, both Democratic and Republican elites back corporate tax breaks or military spending (e.g., $886 billion defense budget in 2023). Tech, finance, and political elites often collaborate on policies like deregulation or trade agreements.

Divisions: Elites split along ideological, regional, and sectoral lines:Ideological Splits: Progressive elites (e.g., academic and media figures) push social justice and climate agendas, while conservative elites (e.g., energy sector leaders, religious influencers) prioritize deregulation and traditional values. These tensions fuel culture wars, like debates over education policy or ESG investing.

Sectoral Competition: Tech elites (e.g., Silicon Valley) clash with legacy industries (e.g., oil, manufacturing) over regulation and innovation. For instance, tech firms advocate net neutrality, while telecom giants resist it.

Political Polarization: Elite-backed political factions—progressive Democrats vs. MAGA Republicans—disagree on governance. The 2020 election saw elite donors split sharply: Wall Street leaned Biden, while some industrialists backed Trump.

Despite these divisions, elites often close ranks when their collective power is threatened. For example, during the 2008 financial crisis, political and economic elites unified to pass TARP bailouts ($700 billion), prioritizing systemic stability over ideological differences.How Close Are American Elites to Division Undermining Elite Rule?Turner’s argument that “division among the elite is a typical cause of elite failure” is key. Elite rule falters when internal fractures prevent coordinated action or alienate the public, eroding legitimacy. American elites are moderately divided but not yet at a breaking point. Here’s an assessment:Current Divisions:Populism vs. Establishment: The rise of populist figures (e.g., Trump, Sanders) reflects elite-public disconnect. Elites are criticized as out-of-touch, fueling distrust. A 2023 Pew Research poll showed only 20% of Americans trust the federal government, a historic low.

Cultural Polarization: Elite-driven culture wars (e.g., over DEI, free speech) deepen public and intra-elite divides. Some elites (e.g., tech moguls like Musk) break ranks, criticizing “woke” orthodoxy, while others double down.

Economic Tensions: Wealth inequality strains elite cohesion. For example, tech billionaires face scrutiny from both progressive elites (taxation debates) and conservative ones (antitrust concerns).

Stabilizing Factors:Institutional Resilience: Elites leverage institutions (e.g., courts, Federal Reserve) to maintain influence, even amid division. For instance, the Supreme Court’s 2022 rulings on abortion and gun rights aligned with conservative elite priorities, despite liberal elite opposition.

Economic Interdependence: Globalized markets bind elites. Tech, finance, and political leaders share stakes in economic stability, discouraging radical ruptures.
Media Control: While fractured, elites still dominate narrative-setting through media and tech platforms, limiting the impact of dissent.

Risk of Undermining Rule: Elite division is a risk but not imminent collapse. Historical examples of elite failure (e.g., French Revolution, Roman Republic’s fall) required deeper fractures and mass mobilization. America’s elites face public discontent, but no unified revolutionary force exists. If divisions grow—say, if populist movements gain elite defectors or economic crises erode public tolerance—elite rule could weaken. For now, elites manage tensions through compromise or suppression (e.g., censoring online dissent, as seen in debates over platform moderation).

Strategies and Failures (Per Turner)Turner notes elites rule through strategies like coalition-building, narrative control, and institutional capture, but fail when divisions expose weaknesses. American elites excel at:Coalition-Building: Cross-sector alliances (e.g., tech-political partnerships) sustain influence.
Narrative Control: Media and academia shape public perception, though trust is eroding.

Institutional Capture: Elites dominate key institutions (e.g., Ivy League, Wall Street), ensuring influence.

Failures emerge when:Divisions Amplify: Ideological splits (e.g., progressive vs. populist elites) weaken coordinated action.
Public Distrust Grows: Overreach (e.g., perceived censorship) fuels backlash.
External Shocks: Crises (e.g., economic collapse, geopolitical failure) could exploit divisions.

Conclusion

Elites significantly influence America but don’t “rule” in an absolute sense due to democratic constraints. They’re united on core interests (economic stability, global dominance) but divided ideologically and sectorally. These divisions create vulnerabilities, as Turner suggests, but aren’t yet severe enough to undermine elite influence broadly. Growing public distrust and populist pressures could widen cracks, especially if economic or social crises intensify. For now, elite adaptability and institutional control maintain their grip, but the system is not invulnerable.

ChatGPT says:

Yes, elites rule America—political, corporate, financial, academic, media, and cultural elites dominate the key institutions. They shape policy, public discourse, and major decisions, often insulated from democratic pressures. But elite rule isn’t monolithic or unchallenged.

American elites are not fully united. There are factions—liberal vs. conservative, globalist vs. nationalist, tech vs. legacy industries, Ivy-connected vs. populist outsiders. They often agree on preserving the system that benefits them but disagree on how to run it or what threats matter most.

Elite cohesion is under strain. Trumpism, campus revolts, billionaire infighting, culture war battles, and media fragmentation all show cracks. The 2008 crash and COVID responses exposed and deepened divides. The risk isn’t total elite collapse, but increasing elite incoherence—mixed messaging, contradictory policies, and growing loss of legitimacy.

Turner’s point holds: pluralism—competing elite spheres (media, academia, business, etc.)—helps stabilize elite rule by offering controlled dissent and options. Attacks on pluralism (from within or below) threaten the entire elite ecosystem. If enough factions see no path to protect their status through cooperation, you get gridlock, infighting, and potentially rupture.

Bottom line: elite rule still holds, but fragmentation is growing. The system runs on elite consensus, and that consensus is fraying. If polarization continues unchecked, it could push American elite rule into a real legitimacy crisis.

Posted in Elites | Comments Off on Elite Rule

I Will Always Love You

A tsunami is coming. Just once I’d like to be blindsided by something *pleasant*.
As the waters rise, I stand firm—not because I can stop them, but because dignity still matters.
The sovereign is he who decides the state of exception. The sea has spoken.
If this is my last tweet, please remember: I was mostly right and occasionally funny.
Tsunami’s coming. I’m not running. I was born for drama.
Tsunami incoming. I refuse to go viral posthumously for a bad tweet.
The tsunami can’t cancel me—I was already shadowbanned by God.
Tsunami en route. Finally, a deadline I respect.
As the sea roars, I whisper: “Still better than another DEI seminar.”
This tsunami better be kosher.
If you find my phone, clear my browser history, then say Kaddish.
God flooded the world once for corruption. This one’s probably for cringe.
I always wanted to make a splash. Just not like this.

The sea rises, but Hashem runs the world. If this is the end, it was always in His hands.
Even a tsunami can’t cancel my Shabbos plans. Let’s see it part the waters like Moshe.
Teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah avert the evil decree. But just in case—backing up my Torah files.
If the sea takes me, may it be with my tzitzit flying and Shema on my lips.
Hashem drowned Mitzrayim. Maybe this one’s for my enemies too.

I spent my life trying to deny death. Now it’s knocking, and I want to podcast through the flood.
Even now, I reach for heroism — not to survive, but to matter.
This tsunami isn’t death — it’s my latest symbolic defeat. And damn it, I want it to go viral.
I mocked the sacred. I dissected culture. But now I pray — because even the anthropologist kneels before the wave.

What would the great thinkers say at a time like this?

Stephen Turner (sociology of expertise):
So the tsunami’s coming — remind me, who certified this wave as legitimate? Where’s the credentialed authority on wall-of-water epistemology?

Ronny Guldmann (prophetic outsider tone):
A civilization that replaces sacred awe with bureaucratic narcissism deserves to drown. This wave is the judgment. I receive it with open arms and an ironic smirk.

Helen Andrews (reactionary realism, moral disillusionment):
You spend your life trying to live with grace in decline. Then the tsunami comes, and you realize — decline was the grace. This is just the ending we refused to plan for.

Darel E. Paul (elite critique):
I always knew coastal cosmopolitanism would end with a pink-haired influencer livestreaming her death in 4K. The elites brought the flood, and they’ll monetize the wreckage.

Clinton Rossiter (constitutional romanticism):
There are no clauses for this. No Federalist fallback. Only the hope that some American, somewhere, still believes in ordered liberty as the waters take him.

Carl Schmitt (state of exception maestro):
The wave is not chaos. It is decision. Every civilization has its flood. What matters now is not law, but the one who stands and says, “Here. No further.”

Richard Spencer (Alt-Right aestheticist):
The tsunami is sublime — a beautiful force beyond liberal containment. Let it wash away the vulgar. Every civilization ends, but not every end is this cinematic.

Posted in Los Angeles | Comments Off on I Will Always Love You

Liberals Applauded When Civil Rights Reoriented The Basis Of American Life

Gemini:

Sam Tanenhaus, in his recent biography, Buckley: The Life and the Revolution That Changed America, delves into how civil rights played a pivotal role in shaping and reorienting the basis of American life, especially within the conservative movement led by William F. Buckley Jr. Tanenhaus’s work, including his meticulous research and access to previously unknown archives, reveals that while Buckley Jr. presented himself as an elite intellectual, he also actively participated in and mobilized the “White backlash” vote against the Civil Rights Movement. This, according to Tanenhaus, involved secretly funding segregationist newspapers and White Citizen’s Councils in the South through his family. Tanenhaus highlights that Buckley’s public and private stances on civil rights demonstrate a foundational contradiction that continues to impact American politics today. The Civil Rights Movement, as described by Tanenhaus, was a movement of “deconsolidation”, aiming to dismantle the social and legal segregation prevalent in the country at the time, particularly in the South. This, he argues, forced a re-examination and eventual reorientation of the very fabric of American life and society, revealing a “ghost in the machine” of the conservative movement that continues to haunt American politics.

Grok:

Sam Tanenhaus’s Buckley: The Life and the Revolution That Changed America serves as a mirror image to Christopher Caldwell’s The Age of Entitlement: America Since the Sixties, particularly in their treatments of the Civil Rights Movement and its impact on American conservatism. Caldwell’s The Age of Entitlement argues that the Civil Rights Movement, while aimed at justice, created a new constitutional framework that prioritized race, gender, and sexuality, leading to a sense of alienation among many Americans and fueling a conservative backlash. He sees the movement as a source of division, replacing older constitutional norms with a system that bred resentment and paved the way for figures like Trump. Caldwell frames this as a top-down imposition of reforms that disrupted social stability, emphasizing the costs of these changes over their moral imperatives.

In contrast, Tanenhaus’s biography of William F. Buckley Jr. examines the Civil Rights Movement through the lens of Buckley’s personal and political evolution, portraying it as a force of “deconsolidation” that dismantled segregationist structures, particularly in the South. Tanenhaus highlights Buckley’s early opposition to civil rights, including his 1957 National Review editorial “Why the South Must Prevail”, where he defended white supremacy on cultural grounds, arguing that the “advanced race” should maintain control. Tanenhaus reveals Buckley’s covert support for segregationist causes, such as funding White Citizens’ Councils, which reflects a strategic alignment with the “White backlash” vote. Yet, Tanenhaus also notes Buckley’s later regret for these stances, acknowledging the federal government’s role in enforcing anti-discrimination laws. This shift underscores a tension within Buckley’s conservatism—a “ghost in the machine”—that mirrors the broader conservative movement’s struggle with civil rights.

The “mirror image” lies in their contrasting perspectives: Caldwell critiques the Civil Rights Movement as a disruptive force that birthed a new, divisive order, while Tanenhaus sees it as a necessary upheaval that exposed contradictions in Buckley’s conservatism, forcing a reorientation of American society. Caldwell focuses on the movement’s unintended consequences for national cohesion, while Tanenhaus emphasizes its role in revealing the moral and intellectual inconsistencies within the conservative movement, particularly Buckley’s initial resistance and eventual partial reconciliation. Both narratives address the movement’s profound impact, but Caldwell’s is a broader societal critique, while Tanenhaus’s is grounded in Buckley’s personal and ideological journey, with civil rights as a pivotal influence.

Posted in Civil Rights | Comments Off on Liberals Applauded When Civil Rights Reoriented The Basis Of American Life

What’s the payoff people get from denying the obvious importance of AI?

I love AI. It has profoundly enhanced the quality of my life. I get to explore immediately whatever I am interested in, whether its cosmic ideas or embarrassing feelings. I get to do more work with more accuracy. I create more jokes and more posts and go deeper than I could on my own.

Denying the obvious importance of AI can give people a few short-term psychological and social payoffs:

Preservation of Control: Admitting AI’s growing power can make people feel irrelevant or out of control. Denial helps preserve a sense of superiority or agency.

Status Quo Bias: If you’re invested in traditional systems (academia, law, medicine, etc.), downplaying AI protects your position and justifies avoiding adaptation.

Moral Superiority (this is most AI deniers I know): Some see AI as unethical, soulless, or dangerous. Denial becomes a way to stake out moral high ground—”we’re the humans, we matter more.”

Avoiding Uncertainty: AI’s rise brings massive unknowns. Denying it makes life simpler and less mentally taxing. No need to re-skill, rethink systems, or question institutions.

Group Identity: In some circles, skepticism or cynicism toward AI is a social signal—like loyalty to a tribe. Denial keeps you in good standing with peers who share that view.

But long-term? That payoff turns into irrelevance, missed opportunity, and being blindsided by change you could’ve shaped.

Denying AI’s importance often stems from fear, self-interest, or cognitive bias. Some people gain a sense of control by dismissing transformative tech—admitting its impact can feel like surrendering to an uncertain future. Others, like those in industries AI might disrupt, protect their status quo by downplaying it. There’s also a psychological payoff: skepticism signals intellectual rigor or contrarianism, which can feel rewarding in a world of hype. Plus, some just cling to outdated mental models, unable to process AI’s exponential growth.

People dig in hard because AI challenges deeply held beliefs about work, creativity, and even what it means to be human. It can feel like a personal attack when someone’s worldview is tied to rejecting or embracing it.

Posted in AI | Comments Off on What’s the payoff people get from denying the obvious importance of AI?

Have China, America & Russia Agreed To Divide Up The World Into Spheres Of Influence?

Mark Halperin Monologue Transcript At The 54:14 Mark:

“My reporting has long suggested that almost everything going on now—Greenland, Panama, the trade war, NATO, even Gaza—is about making a big play to pitch to China to carve up the world. This is reminiscent of how, during the imperialist phase around World War II, leaders talked about carving up China like a melon. Trump’s goal is to spend less bandwidth and resources on containing China by saying to them, “You can have some stuff, but leave us our stuff and stop making everything around the globe a big fight.” That’s my understanding of what’s going on, and I see everything through that prism.By the way, that’s why the Japan, Philippines, and Indonesia deals last week were probably even bigger than the EU deal—not in terms of scale and dollars, but huge in strategic importance. You can see every one of these trade deals through the prism of containing China. Everyone.You’ve got people in the administration, including the president, who are students of the past failures of the previous five presidents to figure out how to gain leverage over China to keep them from being on the march, so our grandchildren aren’t all learning Mandarin. Trump has a plan—too many characters, though.I’m not an expert on economic trade policy, but from what I recall, eight years ago, Obama tried to open up the region for us to control by pushing through a trade agreement—the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP)—that would have given us leverage over China in the Pan-Pacific. But the problem with TPP was that it favored allies over domestic U.S. economics, similar to a Cold War structure where we allowed Europeans to have economic success at our expense to keep them from going over to the communists.”

Grok says:

Halperin’s claims are partially supported by evidence:Strong Evidence: Trade and defense deals with Japan, the Philippines, and Indonesia are clearly aimed at containing China, and TPP’s structure supports his critique of prioritizing allies over U.S. manufacturing. The failure of past presidents to curb China’s rise is well-documented.
Weak Evidence: The idea that all U.S. geopolitical moves (Greenland, Panama, NATO, Gaza) are part of a grand strategy to negotiate a global division with China lacks direct evidence and remains speculative. While some actions align with countering China, no sources confirm an explicit “carve-up” plan.

ChatGPT says:

Mark Halperin’s claim that recent U.S. trade and geopolitical moves are part of a broader strategy to contain China is supported by expert analysis and reporting.

Council on Foreign Relations (CFR)
CFR notes that the Japan, Philippines, and Indonesia deals are likely less about immediate economics and more about shifting leverage in Asia, isolating China strategically.

South China Morning Post
Analysts suggest these agreements aim to counterbalance China’s economic influence in Southeast Asia, even if the immediate impact is muted.

Economist Intelligence Unit (EIU)
Xu Tianchen argues that the U.S. is pursuing indirect containment through bilateral deals in ASEAN, avoiding direct confrontation while boxing in China.

MarketWatch – Trade Truce and Upcoming Deals
Reports that Trump’s administration structured a blitz of trade agreements ahead of the August 1 tariff reset, aimed at consolidating alliances and avoiding a two-front trade war with China and the rest of the world.

MarketWatch – Country-by-Country Breakdown
Breaks down which nations signed onto trade deals and the strategic implications for U.S.-China rivalry.

Washington Post – Japan Tariff Deal
Details how Japan accepted a 15% tariff in exchange for U.S. investment—less about trade, more about alignment.

The Australian – Strategic Framing
Suggests the White House is prioritizing geopolitical advantage over traditional trade parity in deals with Indo-Pacific partners.

Carnegie Endowment – TPP and Leverage
Contextualizes how Obama’s Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) effort tried to box in China via multilateral economic alignment—Trump’s team is doing it through bilateral leverage instead.

Gemini says:

The perspective attributed to Mark Halperin is a comprehensive and internally consistent theory. It interprets U.S. foreign policy not as a series of ad-hoc reactions, but as a calculated, multi-pronged effort to force a new global settlement with China.

Strengths: It ties together many seemingly unrelated policy moves into a single narrative. It correctly identifies the central challenge of U.S. foreign policy (managing the rise of China) and accurately describes the strategic purpose of initiatives like the TPP and modern Indo-Pacific alliances.

Weaknesses: It is highly interpretive and attributes a very high degree of strategic foresight and coordination to an administration that was often described as chaotic. The ultimate goal—a “Grand Bargain” where the U.S. willingly cedes a sphere of influence to China—remains a highly speculative and controversial idea that runs counter to the publicly stated goals of U.S. policymakers across both parties.

In essence, the text presents a classic “realpolitik” interpretation of world events, viewing international relations as a chessboard where great powers maneuver for dominance and ultimately seek a stable equilibrium of power.

Posted in China | Comments Off on Have China, America & Russia Agreed To Divide Up The World Into Spheres Of Influence?

Making Democratic Theory Democratic: Democracy, Law, and Administration after Weber and Kelsen

Here are some highlights from this 2023 book by Stephen Turner and George Mazur:

* The term “administrative state” is now being treated as an invention of the paranoid Right and a misunderstanding of the nature of the state itself.

* The administrative state from its origins has aimed at making public opinion ineffective or undermining its independence, often in the name of leading it, educating it, or providing “justice,” that is to say, something beyond mere “opinion.”

* The administrative state…does not limit itself.

* In the decades after John Rawls’ A Theory of Justice (1971) and especially over the past 20 years or so, many books have been published with the same aim: to vindicate and explicate something that is usually called social democracy on philosophical or social science grounds. After the intense ideological rivalries of the twentieth century, this political ideal has become the default position of virtually all academic thinkers in relevant areas. A century that began with the frank acceptance of the irreconcilability of political value choices, and proceeded with extraordinarily intense ideological warfare, ended with a surprisingly broad, though loose, consensus. One could list such works as Philip Pettit (1997), Amartya Sen (2009), and Alan Gewirth (1978) as examples. And in sociology, one could give Pierre Bourdieu (Bourdieu, 2008; Wacquant, 2005) and Jürgen Habermas (2001) as more or less full members of this consensus.

* These writers all reject the idea of freedom as non-interference or choice as inadequate or wrong; they all decry great wealth, the power of money or the power that money gives people, as a form of injustice; and all involve some idea of autonomy governed by reason.

Who are the major thinkers today in the West who deny the great god of “[personal] autonomy governed by reason”?

ChatGPT says:

Most of these thinkers are not centrally concerned with domination in the modern liberal-left sense—i.e., oppression as lack of recognition, microaggressions, or identity-based exclusion. Here’s a breakdown:

  • MacIntyre, Taylor, Sandel
    Some concern with domination, but understood through tradition, community breakdown, and moral fragmentation rather than identity politics.
    Taylor is closest to liberal recognition theory, especially in Multiculturalism and the Politics of Recognition.
    MacIntyre and Sandel care more about the loss of moral language and community than “recognition” per se.
  • Deneen, Milbank, O’Donovan
    Skeptical or critical of the modern focus on domination as identity-based humiliation.
    They worry more about spiritual or metaphysical alienation—how liberalism’s elevation of autonomy fractures tradition, religion, and authority.
    Milbank and O’Donovan explicitly critique modern secular liberalism for replacing theological truth with “recognition” discourse.
  • Scruton
    Opposes the idea that society owes identity affirmation or recognition.
    Emphasizes duty, beauty, sacredness, and the conservation of institutions—not freedom from domination as defined by progressive politics.
  • Manent
    Sees liberal focus on identity as a symptom of moral and political fragmentation.
    Concerned with the loss of shared political purpose, not domination in the recognition-theory sense.

Bottom line:
These thinkers mostly reject the liberal shift toward defining freedom as the absence of domination via misrecognition.
Their critiques aim higher: the spiritual, moral, and metaphysical breakdown behind modern individualism—not the interpersonal slights or systemic marginalizations that dominate current progressive discourse.

Back to Turner & Mazur:

* The right thing is collective; the tension is between the collectively acknowledged good and the distorted private good, which is distorted because it is at heart a quest for something like autonomy and recognition but expresses itself in greed and power seeking, which are the things that need to be collectively controlled.

ChatGPT:

That quote reflects a progressive or Marxian moral-political view: that private desires (like autonomy or recognition) are distortions, and the collective must correct them through control or reeducation.

The thinkers in question reject that paradigm.

  • MacIntyre believes the good is teleological and tradition-based, not a collective imposition on private distortion. He critiques liberal individualism, but not in favor of collective correction—rather, a return to virtues embedded in practices and communities.
  • Sandel and Taylor see selves as socially situated, but not in need of being corrected by the collective. They critique procedural liberalism, not to elevate collectivism, but to recover deeper sources of meaning and moral depth.
  • Deneen would argue that the collective (as structured under liberalism) is the very thing producing distorted private goods. He’s not calling for collective regulation of desire, but for cultural renewal through tradition and virtue.
  • Milbank and O’Donovan reject both private autonomy and secular collective authority. For them, the only legitimate “collective” is the ecclesial body (the Church), not the state or society acting as moral enforcer.
  • Scruton champions traditional institutions and duties, but deeply distrusts any collective effort to “fix” individuals. He believes in cultivation, not coercion.
  • Manent sees the political as a shared moral space, but one that arises from history and religion—not abstract notions of correcting private distortion.

Bottom line:
These thinkers reject the idea that private goods are inherently distorted and need to be overridden by a collectively defined good. They are skeptical of both radical individualism and collectivist moral engineering. Their goal is neither unrestrained autonomy nor collective control—but the recovery of meaning through tradition, virtue, and transcendent sources of order.

Turner and Mazur write:

* There are many other explanations of why “social democracy” has not happened: the media, the pre-existing culture (which is racist, patriarchal, anti-egalitarian, suffused with false beliefs derived from religion, or scientism), a failed public sphere, or other sources.

* They want a social matrix in which the bad effects of competitiveness and striving are tempered, or replaced, by a regime of personal relations in which dignity is respected, autonomy is granted, and people trust each other―a decent society, as Avishai Margalit calls it (1996). All of the “social” goals involve more discretionary power for officials. These authors all embrace the idea of an activist, paternalist, benevolent state. Health care is often the model for the proper role of the state. Where it is done correctly, it combines dignity, compassion, paternalism, efficiency, the proper use of expertise, universalism, respect for autonomy, and sufficient provision with a rational allocation of scarce resources.

ChatGPT says:

Why would a reasonable, decent person object to this vision?

  • 1. It expands discretionary power dangerously.
    The more discretion officials have, the more room there is for bias, coercion, and mission creep. What starts as “benevolent” paternalism can easily morph into soft authoritarianism. Good intentions don’t guarantee just outcomes.
  • 2. It assumes the state can embody moral virtue.
    Critics argue that the state is a blunt instrument. It’s built for enforcing rules, not embodying compassion, dignity, or trust. Trying to make it do so often leads to bureaucratic overreach and unintended consequences.
  • 3. It infantilizes citizens.
    A paternalist state may protect, but it also disempowers. Critics like Hayek or Rieff would say: the more the state manages your moral and social life, the less you develop responsibility, virtue, or independence.
  • 4. It replaces organic trust with engineered dependency.
    Real trust grows in families, associations, and local communities—not by central planning. Making dignity and compassion into functions of state design risks undermining real social fabric.
  • 5. It idealizes health care as a political model.
    Health care is important, but its goals (efficiency + compassion + universalism) don’t translate well to education, family life, religion, or moral development. Many fear a technocratic mindset creeping into areas where it doesn’t belong.
  • 6. It fails to limit itself.
    Once you justify “more state” for one good (like health or dignity), where do you stop? Critics worry this logic gives the state a mandate to do everything in the name of the good, which is inherently dangerous—even if benevolent at first.

Bottom line:
Good people can want dignity, trust, and compassion—and still oppose a paternalist state—because they believe these values flourish better under limits, subsidiarity, and moral traditions that lie outside politics.

Turner and Mazur write: “They err on the side of protecting the culture of the minority group. For the dominant culture, however, matters are different: it needs to be reformed to accord with reason.”

Who are the most eloquent spokesmen on behalf of the majority culture of America, England, Australia and don’t think it needs to be reformed to accord with reason?

ChatGPT says:

Here’s a list of eloquent and influential voices in the U.S., U.K., and Australia who defend the legitimacy and value of the majority culture—without insisting it must be reformed to meet abstract rational ideals or minority-driven frameworks.

They argue that traditions, inherited norms, and majority ways of life deserve respect—not just critique.

Bottom line:
These thinkers argue that the dominant culture isn’t just a power structure to be rationally critiqued—it’s a moral inheritance to be respected. They reject the elite stance that says only minorities need cultural protection, while the majority must justify itself by reason.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail:

King Arthur: (to the peasant) Will you shut up! Will you shut up! [Arthur grabs and shakes him]
Dennis the Peasant: Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system!
King Arthur: Shut up!
Dennis the Peasant: Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I’m being repressed!
King Arthur: Bloody peasant!
Dennis the Peasant: Oh, what a giveaway! Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That’s what I’m on about! Did you see him repressing me? You saw him, didn’t you?

Stephen Turner writes:

* Economic power for Ringen seems to be defined simply to mean the influence of business money on political campaigns and lobbying. The fact, for example, that Swedish politics is dominated by a major union confederation which owns a controlling interest in the most important newspaper, is the main force in the party that has ruled with only slight interruptions for decades, and is well represented on government panels is apparently not an instance of economic power for Ringen. If one scaled up its membership to fit the population of the United States, this confederation would be a mind-boggling 66 million strong. This kind of overwhelming power would produce “consensus” even in the United States. Obama, who received the highest vote total in American history, had only 63.25 million votes.

* Title IX and anti-discrimination law have generated oaths of their own. These take the form of “diversity statements,” which faculty are required either to sign or to submit as part of the job application process (Oregon Association of Scholars, 2017; for guidelines, see UC, 2015). The statements are designed to compel the applicant to both affirm and prove their commitment to diversity. This form of oath taking has yet to be tested in court, although the requirement of oath taking to demonstrate commitment to diversity is widespread, and the statements are taken seriously. As sociologist Tanya Golash-Boza (2016), in an Inside Higher Ed article, advises job applicants: Many faculty members truly care about diversity and equity and will read your statement closely. I have been in the room when the diversity statement of every single finalist for a job search was scrutinized. The candidates who submitted strong statements wrote about their experiences teaching first-generation college students, their involvement with LGBTQ student groups, their experiences teaching in inner-city high schools and their awareness of how systemic inequalities affect students’ ability to excel. Applicants mentioned their teaching and activism and highlighted their commitment to diversity and equity in higher education.

A typical statement (from a sociologist), which was recommended as a model on the official website of the University of California system, includes this example of evidence of one’s commitment: “In my advising capacities, I encouraged my students to ponder the roles they might play in the alleviation of the vast inequities that continue to shape our world” (UCSD, n.d.). Are these oaths political tests of the kind rejected in the California loyalty case? It depends. If diversity is a political issue, these are political tests. To the extent that doctrinal statements of political beliefs, such as a conviction regarding the evils of inequality, are considered as a basis for employment, there are First Amendment issues, at least in a public institution. If it is a policy commitment, it is plausible for an employer to require adherence to the employer’s policies. Separating the two presents the same kinds of difficulty as harassment guidelines.

Some of these oaths are simple affirmations that have to be signed off on by the applicant. It is an open question as to whether they are enforceable after employment—i.e., whether someone could be said to have violated the oath, have made it falsely, or have renounced it. Nonetheless, the requirement is designed to have an effect on hiring. The act of assessing a person’s commitment to a policy—even if this were an appropriate requirement, consistent with academic freedom is a matter of largely arbitrary personal judgment, exercised by people who are unconstrained by rules or the possibility of appeal.

The Bogan Verdict

What Would a Bogan Say About Turner’s Take on Diversity Oaths?

“So lemme get this straight: you want a job teachin’ kids, and now you gotta write a bloody essay swearin’ you’re down with every social cause under the sun? Sounds like a cult, not a uni.”

“Turner’s spot on—this is just a loyalty oath in new wrapping. Used to be ‘do you hate Communism?’ Now it’s ‘do you love Diversity™?’ Same crap, different cause. You’re not judged on whether you can teach, but on whether you know the right activist codewords.”

“And all this talk about whether it’s a ‘policy commitment’ or a ‘political belief’? Mate, that’s lawyer-speak for tryin’ to cover your arse while you still make people pass an ideological purity test. If you can get fired or not hired for not writing some poetic crap about ‘alleviating inequity,’ then yeah—it’s political. And it stinks.”

“I’ve read resumes that say ‘team player’ and ‘works well under pressure.’ Now we’re sayin’ you have to pledge to save the bloody world before you can teach Sociology 101? Give me a break. No wonder the unis are full of soft-spoken clones who all think the same.”

Bogan verdict: “It’s not about teaching anymore, it’s about showin’ you belong to the club. Turner calls it oath-taking. I call it brown-nosing with a side of culty bullshit.”

Turner:

The progressives of the early twentieth century wanted the support and enthusiasm of “the people” and envied populism for this. But they wanted to lead the people themselves. And they asserted themselves not in the name of people’s interests and wishes, but in the name of expertise. Progressivism was to be the alliance of experts and an aroused “people” (Turner, 1996). And this followed an emerging practice of social movements based on expertise, notably the prohibition movement, which employed the techniques presently associated with climate science under the heading alcohol science…

The progressives of the early twentieth century wanted the support and enthusiasm of “the people” and envied populism for this. But they wanted to lead the people themselves. And they asserted themselves not in the name of people’s interests and wishes, but in the name of expertise. Progressivism was to be the alliance of experts and an aroused “people” (Turner, 1996). And this followed an emerging practice of social movements based on expertise, notably the prohibition movement, which employed the techniques presently associated with climate science under the heading alcohol science…

* Populism is intrinsically a denial of the special superiority of rulers and elites.

* Populist movements happen when political parties, traditional leaders, elites, and politics as usual fail to deliver the expected goods, or fail to accord with the popular sense of reality, or are perceived as untrustworthy and corrupt.

* Populist tendencies are prone to co-optation and typically do not outlast the situations that produced them, though they do represent a reserve of general sentiment against elites and particular ruling groups that can be activated in new situations. They differ from ideologies and ideological parties in that they are situational rather than analytic, in the sense that they have concrete targets and grievances rather than a developed analysis of political life that is extended to new situations and refined and elaborated. This accounts for many of the distinctive features of populist movements, especially the preference for leaders who promise to act decisively, in contrast to normal “politicians,” and their hostility to “politics as usual.”

Populisms are situation-driven rather than analysis-driven, or to put it differently, driven by specific crises or grievances, rather than by a permanent ideological viewpoint…

* Elite solidarity is essential to elite rule; division among the elite is a typical cause of elite failure (Shipman et al., 2018). Elites rule through alliances between the elite and a significant non-elite group. The most stable of these alliances have been with the middle classes, normally under an ideology of meritocracy, property rights, and support of business, an alliance that is played off against the demands of the excluded group, the poor. But an upstairs-downstairs alliance is always possible, and the upper hand the elite has in dealing with the non-elite segments of society depends on its ability to choose alternative groups to ally with. Thus pluralism favors the elite because it provides more opportunities to change alliances. Populism, in contrast, must produce enough unity in the population to effectively counter the elite, and must therefore transcend differences between segments of society in the name of the people. Both Left and Right populisms are anti-pluralist, as a simple consequence of the dynamics of elite alliance-making: neither kind of Populism could succeed if the elite used its alliance-making power to divide the movement. To the extent that elite rule depends on manipulating and shifting alliances with non-elite groups, as is the norm (Shipman et al., 2018), an attack on pluralism is a threat to elite rule as a political system itself.

Stephen Turner’s Elite Theory and the Current American Landscape (2024)

In Making Democratic Theory Democratic (2023), Stephen Turner observes that elite solidarity is the precondition of elite rule. When elites fracture, their rule becomes unstable. In America today, that solidarity remains strong—especially among cultural, bureaucratic, and corporate elites—but is increasingly under pressure.

1. The Shift from Middle-Class Alliance to “Upstairs-Downstairs” Coalition

Historically, American elites allied with the middle class through shared commitments to meritocracy, property rights, and entrepreneurial capitalism. But Turner’s point is that this alliance is contingent—elites can swap allies. That’s precisely what’s happening: elite institutions have shifted toward “upstairs-downstairs” alliances, embracing activist segments of the poor, marginalized, or identity-based groups while sidelining middle-class interests (e.g., deindustrialized workers, suburban parents, independent contractors).

This can be seen in elite support for DEI bureaucracies, urban non-profits, and progressive prosecutors—all justified in the name of equity, but materially aligned with preserving elite control of institutions. As critics like Richard Hanania and Christopher Rufo have noted, this arrangement sacrifices traditional meritocratic norms in favor of performative inclusion—consolidating elite control under the banner of progress.

2. Pluralism as Elite Strategy

Turner points out that pluralism benefits elites because it gives them more non-elite groups to play off each other. In today’s U.S., this dynamic is supercharged: cultural elites promote hyper-pluralism—racial, gender, sexual, linguistic, and legal fragmentation—knowing that division makes populist unity harder to achieve. The Balkanization of the working class (white, black, Latino, native-born, immigrant) ensures that no broad-based “people” can unite to challenge elite dominance.

Policy-wise, this is evident in the Niskanen Center’s defense of technocratic pluralism, or the embrace of “mosaic” identities in elite academic spaces. Even corporate America, via ESG and DEI policies, benefits from a divided and distracted public, while consolidating its grip on institutions.

3. Populism as Anti-Pluralist Threat

Turner clarifies that populism must reject pluralism to unify “the people” against elite power. This is what terrifies the elite: not Trump himself, but the possibility of cross-ethnic class solidarity. Movements like 2016-era Sandersism and 2020s-style national conservatism both attempted this unification—from Left and Right—but both were undermined by elite-led coalition fracturing (e.g., race-based wedge issues, elite control of media narratives, technocratic gatekeeping).

This dynamic aligns with political scientist Jan-Werner Müller’s description of populism as morally exclusionary—but Turner reframes that: it’s not exclusion, it’s strategic unity. Pluralism here isn’t democratic richness; it’s a method of elite survival.

4. Bottom Line: Attacking Pluralism Is Attacking the Elite’s Operating System

Turner’s insight lands clearly: if elite power depends on managing fragmented allies, then populist attacks on pluralism threaten the structural logic of elite rule itself. That’s why populist calls for national unity, civic nationalism, or re-industrialization provoke such aggressive elite resistance—they’re not just political threats, they’re systemic ones.

Next I move to some thought experiments that slide away from Turner’s framework. Turner’s point about elite pluralism and alliance-shifting is an analytical claim about how power works, not a prediction about what replaces it. The MAGA projection assumes a cleaner break than Turner’s principal-agent logic would predict. New populist elites face the same metamorphosis problem as old ones. The discretionary power does not disappear; it changes hands and generates new ideologies to justify itself. Turner’s framework predicts that, whatever replaces the current regime, it will develop its own rationalizations and its own principal-agent gaps. The Bogan would have notes about that too.

What America Might Look Like Under Full MAGA Institutional Rule

1. End of Managerial Elitism

The expert class—academics, NGO directors, DEI bureaucrats, HR technocrats, legacy media editors—would lose their cultural and administrative power. Universities would be defunded or restructured to serve “national priorities” like trade skills, classical education, and civic nationalism. Think Hillsdale meets land-grant colleges.

Institutions like the CDC, DOJ, and FBI would undergo mass purges or reorganizations, with loyalty to national-populist ideology prioritized over traditional credentialism. Think less “PhD in public policy,” more “America First bureaucrat.”

2. Pluralism Crushed in Favor of Majoritarian Unity

MAGA populism, by nature, demands cohesion. The multicultural framework would be dismantled. English-only policies could be enforced. Immigration would be restricted to culturally “assimilable” groups. Affirmative action, DEI programs, and identity-based hiring would be banned at the federal and likely state level.

Instead of diversity statements, public employees might be required to sign patriotic loyalty pledges or oaths to uphold “traditional American values.” Dissent wouldn’t be criminalized—but it would be institutionally marginalized, as conservative populism replaces liberal managerialism as the dominant moral code.

3. Realignment of State and Federal Power

The federal bureaucracy would shrink, with more authority pushed to states—especially red ones. But cultural authority would be centralized around a “common American identity.” Washington might remain powerful on trade and border issues but yield cultural policy to states like Florida or Texas, which could become laboratories for populist governance.

4. Media and Education Overhaul

Public funding for NPR, PBS, and elite universities could be cut or conditioned on “viewpoint neutrality.” K-12 education would pivot to nationalist civic curricula—think Florida’s state education standards, but nationwide. NEA and AFT influence would collapse. Journalism as a credentialed profession might give way to independent populist media ecosystems backed by legislation and funding shifts.

5. New Cultural Orthodoxy

Just as elite liberalism had its sacred language (inclusion, equity, systemic bias), MAGA populism would enforce its own liturgy: God, country, family, tradition. Hollywood, academia, and major corporations would face direct or indirect pressure to align—or else be replaced by parallel institutions that do.

Cancel culture wouldn’t disappear—it would just change targets. Instead of professors being fired for misgendering someone, they might be sacked for denigrating America or opposing the new moral order.

6. Policy Outcomes: Material and Cultural

  • Massive investment in domestic manufacturing and energy independence
  • Tariffs, trade realignment, and possibly an industrial policy aimed at reshoring jobs
  • Criminal justice policy swinging back toward retribution and order
  • Reduction or elimination of race-conscious government programs
  • Social policy defined by a fusion of Christian traditionalism and populist nationalism

7. Political Climate

Polarization would deepen. Blue states might form a de facto “internal resistance,” and cultural secession (divided norms, media, and economic paths) would intensify. But MAGA populism doesn’t aim for compromise—it seeks replacement.

Whether the country holds together under that tension would depend on how far institutional capture goes—and how willing the new regime is to tolerate residual pluralism in the private sphere.

In Turner’s Terms:

This would be the destruction of elite pluralism and its replacement with hegemonic majoritarianism. Elite fluidity—managing alliances between groups—would be eliminated. The new regime would say: “No more playing factions against each other. You’re either with the people, or you’re not.”

A Different America: Post-Pluralist, Nationalist, and Cohesive

1. National Identity as the Unifying Principle

The dominant cultural logic centers on American nationalism—civic pride, historical continuity, and a sense of shared fate. National holidays, founding documents, and patriotic rituals are foregrounded across institutions. Public messaging emphasizes unity over difference, downplaying multicultural narratives in favor of assimilation and loyalty to a common American identity.

Immigrants are still admitted, but selectively—based on perceived cultural fit and national interest. Policies reward assimilation: English fluency, economic contribution, and civic participation. Ethnic enclaves are discouraged in favor of cultural integration.

2. A Shift in Social Trust and Outgroup Boundaries

Social trust is higher within the national in-group, defined less by race or class and more by perceived cultural alignment. People who “buy in” to national ideals—flag, faith, military service, work ethic—are trusted across lines that previously divided Americans.

There is, however, greater suspicion of perceived internal outsiders: transnational elites, activist NGOs, university administrators, and journalists who are seen as unpatriotic or disconnected from common life. Globalist language and institutional neutrality are viewed with skepticism. “Are you on our side?” becomes a cultural litmus test in business, education, and media.

3. Public Institutions Reflect National Cohesion

Government institutions at all levels emphasize responsiveness to “the people.” Bureaucracies are streamlined and tasked with enforcing national priorities—domestic manufacturing, secure borders, law enforcement, civic education. DEI offices are disbanded. Public school curricula focus on American history, constitutional principles, and classical literature, with a narrative arc of national progress and redemption.

Public broadcasting is nationalist and moralistic rather than cosmopolitan and ironic. Art and culture institutions receive funding for projects that affirm traditional values, heroism, sacrifice, and national pride.

4. Media and Communication

Legacy media outlets have lost trust and market share. News is decentralized, with independent nationalist outlets—many rooted in local communities or religious institutions—offering coverage aligned with shared values. Algorithms are regulated to prioritize “constructive speech” and reduce conflict. Tech firms are pressured to avoid censoring political speech unless clearly unlawful.

There is less tolerance for ideological dissent in public-facing roles. Social sanction comes not through cancellation, but through exclusion from influence and advancement. The cultural expectation is not uniformity of thought but alignment with national purpose.

5. Economic Policy and Class Structure

Trade is protectionist. Strategic industries—steel, energy, semiconductors—are domestically subsidized. Unions regain influence, but within a nationalist frame: workers and owners are seen as partners in national renewal, not adversaries in class struggle.

The middle class is central. Working-class jobs have political prestige. Credentialism is in retreat; skilled trades and military service are elevated. Elite institutions that hoarded symbolic capital (Ivy League, think tanks, big philanthropy) are viewed with skepticism or irrelevance.

6. Religion and Morality

Religious observance rises modestly, particularly within Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox traditions that affirm family, order, and responsibility. Public expressions of faith are common and respected. Moral education returns to schools in the form of character-building curricula—discipline, duty, and civic virtue.

7. Foreign Policy

Foreign entanglements are limited. Alliances are judged strictly by national interest. Military engagement is minimal but unapologetic: “we don’t intervene unless it’s about us.” There is strategic competition with China, economic decoupling, and a reset of global leadership expectations.

8. Cultural Tone

The culture is earnest, not ironic. There’s less appetite for boundary-pushing art or transgressive humor. National pride is assumed, not defended. Heroes are elevated. Victim narratives, though still present, are framed within the context of overcoming adversity to become part of the national story.

9. Social Norms

People are expected to contribute, be polite, and show respect for country and community. Dress codes are more traditional. Public behavior is more regulated by informal expectations—less tolerance for disruption or disorder. The cultural atmosphere is more masculine, more religious, and more duty-oriented.

It’s a different America: still diverse, still free, but with a narrowed moral bandwidth, clearer lines between insiders and outsiders, and a strong narrative about who we are and where we’re going—together.

Grok says: “A MAGA populist takeover, as envisioned through Turner’s lens, would transform America into a centralized, nationalist state with diminished pluralism and elite influence. Political institutions would prioritize loyalty over diversity, economic policies would favor workers and small businesses over globalist corporations, and social cohesion would hinge on a narrow definition of “the people.” While this could initially unify non-elite groups, the suppression of pluralism risks long-term instability, as excluded factions and economic challenges threaten the populist coalition. America would become less pluralistic and globally engaged, with a new populist elite potentially replicating old power dynamics unless checked by grassroots accountability.”

Gemini says: “Stephen Turner’s framework suggests that the intense polarization, institutional decay, and populist energy in America are not mere symptoms of incivility. They are the logical consequences of a crumbling elite consensus. The old, stable alliance between elites and the middle class is broken. In its place, we see a divided elite and the rise of two competing populist movements, each trying to build a new, unified, non-elite coalition. They are fundamentally anti-pluralist because they must be; their only path to success is to unite a large enough segment of the population to resist the elite’s classic strategy of dividing and ruling through shifting alliances. The future of American democracy likely depends on which of these forces prevails: a re-stabilization of elite rule through a new alliance, or the success of a populist movement in unifying “the people” and dismantling the system of elite control itself.”

Turner writes:

In this chapter, I will focus on the legal structures and quasi-legal regulatory structures that relate to academic freedom, in addition to the basic theory that applies to them. My aim is to explain (1) how changes in them affect academic freedom, (2) the legal properties of the new constraints under which those in the academy operate, and (3) the differences between this current situation and academic freedom as it has traditionally been understood. The primary issues I will be concerned with are discretionary legal and administrative power and the way that regulations, as implemented by universities, have expanded this power, as well as the enlarged role of contract law and employment contracts as protections of academic freedom. Academic freedom is undergoing a redefinition in the face of new legal circumstances. Its two traditional dimensions are the higher education institutions’ autonomy from the state and the individual freedom of scholars. It was traditionally thought that independence from the state and the existence of strong faculty governance were the best guarantors of academic freedom (Tiede, 2015). The American Association of University Professors (MUP) fought for both. Academic freedom, however, is increasingly restricted by regulations implemented by universities, which can take the form of institutional review boards, research misconduct tribunals, and Title IX enforcement. Because many federal regulations governing institutions of higher education are themselves vague and broad, the specific rules created by these institutions are a result of discretionary power over academics that is inimical to the traditional notion of academic freedom as a well-defined right. The idea of university autonomy, similarly, has undergone important changes. It has been significantly compromised as a result of federal regulation of a kind that did not exist in the first half of the twentieth century. One effect of intensified federal regulation is self-monitoring within higher education institutions (often with the assistance of an internal bureaucratic office) that seeks not only to conform to these externally imposed rules but also to invent local variations that expand on them.

* The university argued that educational institutions assume academic freedom as just one value that must be balanced against “other values core to their mission.” Some of those values, it said, include the obligation to “take care not to cause harm, directly or indirectly, to members of the university community”; to “respect the dignity of others and to acknowledge their right to express differing opinions”; to “safeguard the conditions for the community to exist”; to “ensur[e] colleagues feel free to explore undeveloped ideas”; and to carry out “the concept of cura personalis,” which involves working and caring “for all aspects of the lives of the members of the institution” (McAdams, 2018: 69).This line of argument would have the effect of eliminating academic freedom as a contractual right and subjecting its exercise to a wide range of other, largely subjective considerations.

* As all of these examples show, the present legal system produces an unequal conflict between academic freedom, which has only the most fragile and indirect legal basis, and employment law. The latter is backed by administrative law, which, in turn, is supported by the practice of judicial deference and the absence, in most cases, of statutory law providing for and defining academic freedom. A recent University of Texas lawsuit indicated how low on the legal hierarchy academic freedom is. A lawyer representing the state and the university affirmed the state’s view that academic freedom was a “workplace policy,” not a First Amendment right (Ellis, 2018). This is the language of standard employment law. If a university is allowed to define academic freedom as a workplace policy, then it has little legal significance. Policy is a prerogative of the employer. Employers have been reluctant to act on this prerogative, but they have been less hesitant in applying regulations backed by administrative law, which represent different policy values. In the cases we have discussed, academic freedom is considered to be one policy value among several and, therefore, subject to being balanced against other interests or public purposes.The effect of this new regime of administrative law, which holds employers responsible for fulfilling a vast array of policy desiderata, is to create an equally vast array of new discretionary powers for academic administrators and committees, such as IRBs. The mere existence of these powers marks the end of academic freedom as it was traditionally understood: both as a right, instead of an interest against which other interests are balanced, and as a concept superior to employment policy, rather than subject to it. Without clear demarcations and the legal priority of a right―even if it is only an implied contractual right in employment law, with a defined meaning apart from the interpretation placed on it by universities―it is impossible to defend traditional academic freedom against the ever-encroaching body of administrative law and university procedures.
One may ask, however, whether there is much traditional academic freedom left to defend. The “marketplace of ideas” image referred to in the classic legal defenses of academic freedom depended on the real autonomy of faculty members to pursue inquiry as they saw fit and to occasionally express their opinions in public without penalty. The present regime of science is governed by a grant system that ties a scientist to the judgments of peers through a brutal system of competition for funds. The rest of academia is bound to a competitive system of quantitative reputation assessment, to which our submission is, as Gloria Origgi (2017: 218) has called it, a form of voluntary epistemic servitude that has the same effects. This coincides with, and perhaps produces, a cultural change in the professoriate. The constituency for traditional academic freedom within a university would be the people who were exercising freedom in accordance with the liberal theory of science. This constituency barely exists today. It is noteworthy that of the university cases discussed here, three of them (at Texas, Duke, and Marquette) involved objections to either an ideologically dominant position or to practices enforcing ideological conformity. The suppression of one faculty member was supported by much of the rest of the faculty. Conformity has an active constituency. Indeed, for topics involving diversity, it has an institutionalized presence in the university, many means to enforce it, and enthusiastic support among the faculty. Academic freedom has only the few legal means outlined earlier. We have come full circle, culturally as well as legally, from the California loyalty oath case.

Posted in Democracy | Comments Off on Making Democratic Theory Democratic: Democracy, Law, and Administration after Weber and Kelsen