There’s a battle for the soul of conservatism. On one side are those who emphasize liberty: man’s natural right to live as he pleases so long as he doesn’t violate the rights of others. On the other side are those who emphasize virtue: man’s duty to uphold order and live according to right reason. This has always been a contentious issue on the Right. But is it a false dichotomy?
Stephanie Slade, managing editor of Reason, thinks so. She’s written a fine essay on fusionism, the attempt to synthesize liberty and virtue into a coherent philosophical system. According to Slade, the popular narrative surrounding fusionism, that it was primarily a political coalition sustained by the Cold War, which inevitably collapsed once that conflict ended, is wrong. Building on midcentury conservative intellectuals such as Frank Meyer, Slade insists that fusionism is primarily about ideas rather than politics.
“Fusionism, properly understood, is not a marriage of two groups. It’s a marriage of two value sets,” Slade argues. “A fusionist is someone who sees both liberty (in the classical sense of freedom from aggression, coercion, and fraud) and virtue (in the Judeo-Christian sense of submission to God’s commands) as important. Fusionism is therefore a distinct philosophical orientation unto itself.”
Slade is correct that fusionism “has historically been the dominant orientation on the American right.” But the conservative civil war shows this is no longer true. The very nature of conservatism is up for grabs. For my part, I happily throw in with the fusionists, as Slade defines them. But I see two big challenges to Slade’s attempted revitalization of fusionism. I offer them in the spirit of constructive criticism in the hope of recovering what the Right has lost.
First, while I agree with Slade on the primacy of ideas, I also think she dismisses the rough-and-tumble coalitional aspects of fusionism too quickly. There’s a reason fusionism developed and solidified when it did. Ideas may be the prime mover in the long run. But ideas are held by individuals, individuals interact within social institutions, and social institutions promote certain outcomes while discouraging others. Ideas obviously determine the content of philosophical systems, but their viability, or adaptive fitness, depends on their ability to win support. Political contingencies plausibly explain why fusionism flourished, then declined. We must account for the survivability of fusionism independently from the merits of its arguments.
Second, Slade’s characterization of fusionism is perhaps too broad. If fusionism means believing liberty and virtue are both important, then the fusionist tent is huge. Surely, many national conservatives would say liberty is important; surely, many libertarians would say virtue is important. But were this sufficient, there’d be no reason for conservatives to squabble among themselves. What ultimately matters isn’t the value of liberty or virtue in the abstract. Instead, the debate is about which is more valuable at the margin: Starting from where we are, should conservatives push for more liberty or more virtue? Answering “Both!” doesn’t help.
Again, I’m a fan of Slade’s project and very much hope she succeeds. But success requires acknowledging that the relationship between liberty and virtue is not quite so tidy as optimistic fusionists, such as Meyer, thought. Slade writes that it is quintessentially American to believe that “virtue and liberty were mutually reinforcing.” Just so. But that doesn’t change the fact that there is an asymmetry in the relationship. One can be virtuous without being free. Epictetus was no less noble during his years in slavery; St. Paul was no less saintly while under house arrest in Rome. But one cannot be free without being virtuous. Those who disagree will find they do not remain free for long.
Liberty and virtue cannot be fully reconciled or harmonized. But they don’t have to be. There is a tension between freedom and order, but it is a fruitful tension. Even during fusionism’s heyday, there were many fights between classical liberals and religious traditionalists. That’s OK. Fusionism was at its strongest when its constituent factions felt safe enough to scrimmage rather than all-out brawl. That’s something we sorely need today.
Alexander William Salter is an associate professor of economics in the Rawls College of Business at Texas Tech University, the comparative economics research fellow at TTU’s Free Market Institute, and a Young Voices senior contributor. Follow him on Twitter @alexwsalter.
