Clichés make for bad writing, but in politics they can be downright dangerous. That was the thesis of Bronte Wigen’s recent Collegian op-ed, “The Jeopardy of Political Jargon.” Her identification of several phrases common to the national political discourse that lend themselves to ambiguity and misdirection was interesting, but even more so was the question that struck me after reading her piece: Are we at Hillsdale immune from this impulse toward ambiguous language? Are there any platitudes that permeate our language without being challenged or defined?
An immediate example came to mind: “non-ideological conservatism.” The language of non-ideology has a weighty presence in the intellectual conversation here at Hillsdale. I have heard a number of professors, students, and even campus speakers describe themselves in these terms. Nevertheless, the question remains: What does it mean to be non-ideological? Moreover, what does it mean to be a non-ideological conservative?
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, ideology is “[a] systematic scheme of ideas, usually relating to politics, economics, or society and forming the basis of action or policy.” By this standard, a non-ideological conservative is a contradiction in terms. I have yet to meet a single student, professor, or speaker here at Hillsdale who lacks political or economic opinions. Of course, I recognize that those who describe themselves as non-ideological are not simply confused or so ignorant that they fail to see blatant contradiction. Far from it: I believe that the idea of a “non-ideological conservative” has taken on an additional, and largely implied, meaning that reveals important truths about the way we at Hillsdale understand our relationship to the larger world.
The emphasis on the need for a non-ideological conservatism is intertwined with a general aversion, even disgust, toward politics. At Hillsdale, the critique of ideology rests on a redefinition of the word’s meaning to refer to more than a set of opinions about the good of human political life. Rather, ideology has come to be understood as reductionist dogmatism, an attempt to politicize all of human life under simplistic tenets. Wendell Berry’s essay “In Distrust of Movements” is an excellent encapsulation of the mindset of the adherents to a non-ideological conservatism.
Political action is inherently suspect in Berry’s formulation because any “movement” to alter the political order is bound to become exactly what it seeks to destroy: Hungry for power and self-aggrandizing. As John Taylor wrote in the Hillsdale Forum: America is currently dominated by a “politico-industrial complex” in which democracy has been subsumed by corporations and conniving politicians. This marriage of big business and politics ruins “all hope for a better world and more just society.”
The only way out of the trap of political ideology, in this view, is to abandon or attempt to move beyond politics. I believe this explains, in part, the appeal of the agrarian and localist vision. If any attempt at political change is illusory at best and destructive at worst, the move to cut oneself off from national problems and policy debates is appealing. Why not simply return to our roots, to our communities and homes? Instead of presenting solutions to the prominent political crises of our time, non-ideological conservatism sees itself as a disposition toward preserving beauty, hope, and human dignity in the small things, away from the centers of power and political controversy.
Despite the appeal of such a move, I see a danger in this dispositional conservatism. We may turn away from the political problems of our day, but they will not turn away from us. There are serious crises in the heart of American politics. The debates over transgender bathroom laws, gay marriage, abortion, foreign policy, deficit spending, school prayer, and the bounds of the administrative state touch our lives in direct ways, even here in small-town America. That influence will only continue to grow as long as the dominant opinion remains progressive and liberal. The idea that we can ignore this reality is problematic. Ambivalence will lead us either to submit or to succumb to the influence of the liberal mindset. There is a third option, however: We can resist. We can challenge the dogmas of the progressive faith and use our talents to shape the culture around us. Would doing so mean abandoning our dedication to non-ideology? Certainly, but that is a small price to pay in return for a movement toward a conservative defense of good government and just laws.