The “conservative principle of prudence” is fear by another name
And it sounds sweet to "conservatives"
This is another installment in my critique of “Ten Conservative Principles” by Russell Kirk, one of the most influential writers among “conservatives.”
(Earlier installments are at these links: Overview, Principle 1, Principle 2, and Principle 3.)
Now it’s time to tackle the fourth “principle.” (You can read all ten of them HERE.)
[C]onservatives are guided by their principle of prudence. Burke agrees with Plato that in the statesman, prudence is chief among virtues. Any public measure ought to be judged by its probable long-run consequences, not merely by temporary advantage or popularity. Liberals and radicals, the conservative says, are imprudent: for they dash at their objectives without giving much heed to the risk of new abuses worse than the evils they hope to sweep away. As John Randolph of Roanoke put it, Providence moves slowly, but the devil always hurries. Human society being complex, remedies cannot be simple if they are to be efficacious. The conservative declares that he acts only after sufficient reflection, having weighed the consequences. Sudden and slashing reforms are as perilous as sudden and slashing surgery.
If you’ve been following this series of posts, you probably have the sense that you’ve heard all this before. That’s because you have. It was just put in different words, with slightly different emphasis. We will see that all this self-congratulatory talk about “conservative” prudence is just another way to say “we’re afraid.”
Let’s get started.
A detailed consideration of the “fourth principle”
We begin with the main statement:
[C]onservatives are guided by their principle of prudence.
This is at least straightforward, though we will need to get into the supporting statements in order to understand what Kirk means by the term prudence. But the statement itself makes it clear that Kirk considers “conservatives” to be superior to others in prudence. It is “their” principle of prudence he is praising, not anyone else’s.
But what is this prudence of which he speaks? Let’s read some more to try to find out.
Burke agrees with Plato that in the statesman, prudence is chief among virtues.
I don’t know why Kirk is limiting this assertion to the statesman. Perhaps because he draws it from two political works—Plato’s Republic and Burke’s “Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents.” (Plato discusses this matter in many places in the Republic. There is no specific passage that asserts what Kirk alleges, but the whole text makes it clear that something prudence-like is very important to Plato. Burke does indeed make the notion explicit. “Prudence is, indeed, the first of all virtues, as it is the guide and director to all the rest.” (Burke, Edmund. “Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents.” in The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, ed. Thomas W. Copeland, vol. 3, [New York: Little, Brown and Company, 1899], 4-5.)
Despite the name-dropping (as I mentioned in an earlier post, the purpose of calling on authorities is to give the impression of cleverness) it is still not clear what Kirk means by “prudence.” Miriam-Webster gives four meanings: 1. the ability to govern and discipline oneself by the use of reason; 2. sagacity or shrewdness in the management of affairs; 3. skill and good judgment in the use of resources; 4. caution or circumspection as to danger or risk.
Burke is certainly using it in the first sense. Indeed, this usage goes back to Aristotle’s Nichomachean Ethics, in which all the virtues are thought of as habits that hit a mean of behavior between two extremes, one excessive and one deficient. For instance, courage hits the mean between rashness, an excess behavior, and cowardice, a deficient behavior. Virtues are habits because the person who has them hits the mean unfailingly, or almost unfailingly, in the way someone who has the habit of bike-riding can almost always balance without deliberating about it.
In order to acquire those habits, however, a person who does not possess them must be able to deliberate about excess and deficient behaviors, select the mean behavior in a given case, and repeat that process until the choice becomes second nature. Aristotle calls this ability to deliberate prudence (phronēsis). It is quite obvious that having this ability to deliberate is a prerequisite for developing all the other virtues. So what Burke means is pretty transparent.
Plato, on the other hand, probably thought something similar, judging by the things he says in the Republic. But he did not make the distinction that Aristotle makes between good deliberation in practical matters or prudence (phronēsis) and good deliberation in speculative matter about ultimate truths, which Aristotle calls wisdom, sophia. Plato lumps all good deliberation under the heading of wisdom and does not single out prudence for special attention. Nevertheless, he would probably agree with Aristotle and good deliberation is a necessary foundation for developing the virtues.
In any case, these concepts are not limited to politics or to the statesman or to “conservatives.” They are quite general in scope. The ability to deliberate well, either about practical or speculative matters, is essential to living well. Fools suffer from not having that ability.
But we will need to read a bit more to tell which sense of the term prudence Kirk intends.
Any public measure ought to be judged by its probable long-run consequences, not merely by temporary advantage or popularity.
Again, why Kirk limits himself to politics is not clear. Considering long-run consequences in deliberations in addition to temporary advantage or popularity is applicable quite generally, not just in in judging public measures.
But the limitation does give more specificity to what Kirk means by prudence. He seems to have deliberations about practical matters, like politics, in mind. That is, in Aristotle's terms, he means phronēsis rather than sophia. So at least this far, Kirk is using the term prudence in Burke’s and Aristotle’s way.
Now that this is clear, it is also worth noting that this statement is wrong on several counts. It has the veneer of plausibility only because Kirk strategically overlooks two serious objections.
First, Kirk implies that long-run consequences provide better information about a course of action than temporary advantage or popularity. While there are certainly cases when this is true—this is what gives the appearance of plausibility—it is not always true. Temporary advantage may be all that is at stake in a course of action.
Take, for example, the political decision to enact a short-term tax break on the purchase of clothing. This is intended to give a short-term boost to the economy without having any long-term effects. Popularity also has its place. The majority may well be in favor of a temporary tax break on clothing because it will trim this month's bills, even though it will not affect next month’s.
The point is that long-run consequences are not the only or even the overriding factors in practical deliberations. It is generally prudent to take them into account, but it cannot be a “principle” that they should always supersede other considerations.
Second, and much more important, the advisability of any course of action depends primarily and essentially on its correctness—that is, on whether it is rooted in truth rather than falsity, or, in the case of politics, whether it is just rather than unjust.
For instance, “conservatives” who opposed eliminating segregation often claimed the the long-run consequences of such a policy would be social turbulence, whereas the long-run consequences of keeping segregation would continue the tranquil social conditions they preferred.
But these long-run consequences—whether turbulent or tranquil—mattered not a jot. Segregation was rooted in the falsehood that the races are unequal. The truth being the opposite, there is no question but that segregation should fall. And in this case, segregation had done and continued to do so much harm—in other words, was so unjust—that by the time of the civil rights movement it was morally intolerable for it to continue.
Moreover, there was another long-run consequence, ignored or denied by “conservatives,” that should have entered into the calculations of prudence. By removing the social bars to equality, the nation could become more inclusive, more even-handed, more just. This consequence did not seem to matter at all in the calculus of pro-segregationist “conservatives.”
Another example is the “conservative” hatred of Social Security. They are still trying to kill it after almost nine decades. The only consequences they ever wanted to consider were imaginary ones—that Social Security would bankrupt the nation, that it would infantilize seniors, that it would “redistribute income.” They would never consider the actual outcome that FDR and the liberals claimed for the program, namely, that it would give citizens a floor of financial stability in their waning years. And even though that came to pass fairly quickly after the program was passed, and even though 81 percent of Americans say that the program does exactly what the liberals claimed back in the 1930s (see survey HERE,) “conservatives” still refuse to acknowledge this consequence. Instead, they insist that they were right all along and Social Security has been destroying America for the past 88 years. That’s a long time to be destroying but not succeed at it. It seems that the devil takes his time.
Another example is climate change. The consequences of unrestrained burning of fossil fuels have been clear since at least the 1990s. “Conservatives” still refuse to face those consequences. The consequences they care about are consequences for “free markets” (forcing corporations to pay for the damage they do), profits, and their own lifestyles.
There are many other examples of the limited scope of “conservative” willingness to consider consequences. But these few already demonstrate the inferiority of “conservatism” in regard to prudence.
One should hardly be able to claim to be superior in prudence if one will only consider some of the consequences while ignoring or denying other consequences, excluding all past errors, and disregarding the underlying truth of falsity on which an action is based. If you consider consequences selectively and dismiss all other relevant factors, you get highly deficient deliberation. That is where “conservatives” excel—exactly the opposite of what Kirk is trying to prove.
In short, the appeal to “long-run consequences” is emotional rather than substantive. “Conservatives” like it because they can use it as a plausible cover for keeping the status quo, which often aligns with their irrational fear of change.
Like most of Kirk’s statements, this one is not supported by sound argument. Its superficial plausibility fosters the “conservative” delusion of superiority, but its essential irrationality utterly refutes their self-estimation.
As an aside, the tenor of Kirk’s assertions is now shading toward Miriam-Webster’s second, third, and fourth meaning of the term prudence. Kirk is trying to imply that “conservatives” are wiser, more skillful, and more circumspect in deliberation than others. As we will see, all of these implications are false.
Liberals and radicals, the conservative says, are imprudent: for they dash at their objectives without giving much heed to the risk of new abuses worse than the evils they hope to sweep away. As John Randolph of Roanoke put it, Providence moves slowly, but the devil always hurries.
The “conservative” does indeed say that liberals and radicals are imprudent. But, as usual, what the “conservative” says is usually deceptive and meant to imply a superiority that does not exist.
The image of heedlessness imputed to those who work for change is a caricature. Of course there are some liberals and radicals, developmentally arrested at adolescence, who rush at any chance to stick it in they eye of their putative oppressors. There are plenty of adolescent “conservatives” who do exactly the same.
But serious liberals, and even serious radicals, not only restrain themselves from precipitous action but also may be more prudent—indeed, far more prudent—than “conservatives.” This is because they have no “principles” preventing them from examining the errors of the past, analyzing how those errors continue to plague the present, and devising creative plans for thoughtful, just, and forward-looking change. In addition, they have a commitment to reason, logic, and evidence that “conservatives” seem not to care about—judging from what we have read so far, and will read over the next few installments.
Take, for example, the work of John Maynard Keynes, which “conservatives” think of as intolerably liberal. It is hardly rash, unconsidered, emotional, naive. It is difficult, well-reasoned, and, after nearly a century, has stood the test of time. So much so, in fact, that nearly all economists operate with Keynes’s basic tenets these days, despite nearly a century of “conservative” attempts to discredit them.
The picture of liberals as giddy teenagers running after the latest shiny object may make “conservatives” feel superior, but it also allows them to hide their innate inferiority from themselves.
And regarding the remark of John Randolph of Roanoke that the devil always hurries, it is thin air. As a “conservative” proverb it seeks to justify contempt of liberals. But as a matter of truth, it is empty. Here is an equally valid proverb to the contrary: The Deity dashes, but the devil always dawdles. After all, God created the whole world in six days, whereas the devil spent forty days trying to tempt Christ—and ultimately failed.
Randolph may have been better than Kirk at inane “conservative” rhetoric. At least Randolph could concoct a passable fake proverb, whereas Kirk’s rhetoric is diffuse, excursive, and full of inconsistencies. Maybe that’s why Kirk admires Randolph.
Human society being complex, remedies cannot be simple if they are to be efficacious.
It is unclear how this sentence relates to the previous one or the following one. In any case, the statement is untrue. Human society is indeed complex, but it does not follow that simple solutions cannot work. Sometimes, surprisingly, simple solutions do fix problems in complex systems.
Here is an example. Russian society in the eighteenth century was a very complex competition of traditional influences and modernizing impulses, resulting in enormous internal tensions together with difficult external relations with other, more modern European powers. Catherine the Great changed the entire situation by issuing the Edict of Tolerance in 1773, which gave non-Orthodox religious communities in Russia equal rights. Most historians agree that this edict has the almost immediate effect of lessening both internal and extern religious and political tensions, allowing Russia to make great strides in modernization.
Simple solutions sometimes do remedy complex problems. It is usually a surprise, sometimes even to those who proposed the solutions.
This statement is also wrong in another way. Kirk intends to imply that liberals produce simple proposals, whereas “conservatives” produce complex ones. There is no evidence for such a biased belief. Both liberals and “conservatives” have been equally capable of producing both simple and complex proposals.
But Kirk is not interested in evidence. It serves his purpose to stigmatize liberals as simple-minded because that gives “conservatives” another emotional crutch to help them feel superior in their inferiority.
In fact, Kirk’s own prejudices make it much more likely that “conservatives” will be simple-minded than liberals. Because their own “principles” prevent them from considering their past errors, the truth or falsity of their premises, and any consequences they dislike, the range of considerations that go into “conservative” deliberations is far smaller than the range available to liberals. And that means “conservatives” are that much more likely to deliberate badly, and more simple-mindedly, than liberals—or than anyone who takes more into account than just what “conservatives” will allow.
The conservative declares that he acts only after sufficient reflection, having weighed the consequences. Sudden and slashing reforms are as perilous as sudden and slashing surgery.
This declaration of “the conservative” is extraordinary in light of what we have seen so far. “Conservative” reflection almost certainly will never be sufficient, because “the conservative” refuses to take many factors into account. His weighing of the consequences will almost always be inaccurate, and often wildly so, because he refuses to recognize consequences that do not appeal to him. And even if his estimate of the consequences is realistic, his deliberation will probably be wrong because he won’t consider past errors or the underlying validity of the assumptions on which the proposed action rests.
The final sentence seems to be one of Kirk’s attempts to pen a proverb in emulation of Randolph. It is less rhetorically effective than, but just as false as, Randolph’s apothegm. Sometime sudden and slashing reforms are just what is required to save a nation. The Civil War was necessary to save the Union, because “conservatives” had been completely unwilling to give up their immoral behavior for half a century. The blood had to be spilled in order to expiate America for their sins. Similarly, sudden and slashing surgery is sometimes necessary—as were the brutal amputations that sometimes saved the lives of those who fought in that necessary war.
Conclusion: For “conservatives,” prudence is just another name for fear
In sum, the “principle of prudence” is yet another expression of the fear that is the center of gravity for “conservatives.”
The claim that “conservatives” are more prudent than others is exactly the opposite of the truth. By limiting the factors they will allow themselves to consider, “conservatives” make themselves, in principle, much less prudent than open-minded people.
The claim that liberals are rash is flattering self-delusion and parody. In fact, once again, the “conservative” attitude turns out to be the opposite of the truth: serious liberals are almost always more deliberate and prudent than “conservatives”—as a result of the very “principles” that “conservatives” espouse.
The claim that simple solutions cannot apply to complex systems is the opposite of the truth.
And the claim that sudden changes are necessarily dangerous is also the opposite of the truth.
So far, Kirk’s “principles” are rife with error, self-delusion, and falsehood. Why do they fly in the face of truth so consistently?
Because each and every one of them is designed to convince “conservatives” of one thing above all—that they are not afraid. But this is a lie. They are more afraid of more things than most people. They fear loss of property and wealth. They fear loss of status. They fear self-examination. They fear uncertainty. They fear creativity. They fear everything they do not understand. And most of all, they fear change.
Each “conservative principle” attempts to hide this fear by portraying it in various flattering guises. But they are all lies, meant to shield “conservatives” from the truth of their inferiority.
And that is why they all invariably fly in the face of truth.
A parting thought on “conservative” prudence
Kirk’s “principle of prudence” is the “conservative’s” weapon against change. Change would require them to admit that they need to reform themselves because their current attitudes are wrong—and that strikes them as a weakness they cannot bear to acknowledge. The prevalence of this cowardice in so much of the American public obstructs America, hinders it from improving, holds it back from building a better future, impedes it from becoming a more just and equitable nation.
Here is a quip about the limitations of fearful people like “conservatives” from the greatest German poet, who knew how to pen proverbs:
There are people who make no mistakes because they never wish to do anything worth doing. (Goethe, Maxims and Reflections, No. 162.)
Add to that their desire to do all too many things that are not worth doing—and the picture of the “conservative” comes into clear focus.
Join me for the following installments of the remaining six principles. I can promise you that it only gets worse for “conservatives.”
Stunning Photo. So happy you changed your name, Scott!