In 1981, a small book appeared from a university press that looked at the modern world and saw nothing but disarray. Indeed, in the author’s view, morality as such had nearly vanished, and the collapse of intelligible moral discourse marked a serious “degeneration” and “cultural loss.” Arguing that a “new dark ages” had fallen upon us, he claimed we are under the governance of “barbarians.” And, in an odd little concluding chapter in which he pointed out a curious parallel in the thought of St. Benedict and Leon Trotsky, he suggested that the only solution is quarantine, a breaking up of the world into small local communities in which civility might be preserved. Only a new St. Benedict — or a new Trotsky — can possibly save us.

The book was called After Virtue, and it might have faded away unnoticed: yet another unremarkable tome in the long line of conservative laments for lost worlds and yet another conservative demand that we flee to the distant mountains and escape the decadent last days of a collapsing culture. It might have faded away — except that its author was Alasdair MacIntyre, the man who is possibly the greatest moral philosopher of the last fifty years and certainly the most unyielding critic of liberalism writing today. Since 1981, After Virtue has been the most widely discussed book of philosophy in English — not just among philosophers, but among general readers across America. You can violently disagree with MacIntyre, as many do, particularly on the socialist left. Or you can violently agree with him, as many do, particularly on the Catholic right. But you can’t get away without knowing about him.