A Word on the Re-Inauguration of the Freemen News-letter

Conservatism's stint in the wilderness may be shorter than we think.

The purpose of The Rank Pundit is to comment on the weekly affairs of American politics. The title is taken, as far as I can tell, from a phrase coined by Jonah Goldberg. 

But I thought it would be fitting to begin by writing something about the Freemen Newsletter and why some of us have been inspired to offer our time and effort to write for it. 

The name is a nod to Albert Jay Nock’s The Freeman, a libertarian-conservative magazine from the 1920s (resurrected in the 1930s, and resurrected again in the 1950s by the Foundation for Economic Education). Nock is a hero to many conservatives, having spent much of his adult life in the political wilderness, keeping alive ideas which would one day find a home in the pages of National Review.

The title of Nock’s autobiography, Memoirs of a Superfluous Man, states this directly. He was superfluous to the main political conversations of his day. His ideas weren’t taken seriously. There was no ideological constituency for them. Neither political party had room for him.

In his 1955 publisher’s statement, William F. Buckley Jr. railed against this intellectual climate in which National Review was also “superfluous.” Through decades of work, his conservative movement eventually found purchase in the Republican Party, which had been receptive to conservative ideas at times in its history, and which had always been the more likely candidate among the two parties for those ideas, but which had not been particularly conservative in the period between the end of Calvin Coolidge’s presidency and the nomination of Barry Goldwater. 

In a 1936 essay in The Atlantic Monthly, “Isaiah’s Job,” Nock described a “remnant” of anonymous individuals out in the world who would keep alive his ideas (analogous to the remnant among the Hebrews for whom God tells Isaiah he is prophesying). They might not even remember his name, but this anonymous, unorganized remnant would pass the flame to the next generation. 

Jonah Goldberg named his popular podcast “The Remnant,” in homage to Nock. Almost alone among commentators today, he is willing to live in the wilderness, to ignore the temptation to shill for either party, and to hold fast to ideas which were once in vogue and may be again. The Dispatch, National Review, Commentary, and a smattering of other outlets on the American right continue to hold fast. Today, however, the bulk of what we call “conservative media” (for want of a better term) is in thrall to Donald Trump or some variety of populist-nationalism. 

Since 2016, there has been a project to rework the American right in the image of working-class populism, which has largely meant an opportunity for cranks and dissidents who lived in the wilderness in decades past to air their grievances against the Republican establishment. Primarily angry with neoconservatives and libertarians, they took aim at the three-legged stool (national security hawkishness, free market economics, and traditional virtue) which had once defined the Republican coalition. Some of them were paleoconservatives in the mold of Pat Buchanan – “Middle American Radical” cultural conservatives, who were suspicious of free trade and alliances and foreign wars, enamored with industrial policy, and upset about immigration. Others were – despite all efforts to pretend otherwise – American Red Tories, economically left-wing and socially right-wing. These included the nationalists, populists, post-liberals, integralists, and neo-reactionaries who styled themselves the New Right (many of them likely unaware that there have been several movements which went by that name, including some which fit a similar mold – traditionalists upset at the right-wing alliance with libertarians and hawks). 

There will be time enough for discussing the New Right as this newsletter continues to publish. But for the purposes of this essay, the importance of the New Right is that it has pushed what used to be the defining feature of the American right – the three-legged stool of Reaganism – back into the wilderness. The selection of J. D. Vance as vice-presidential nominee, and the lineup of speakers at the Republican National Convention – Sean O’Brien, Kid Rock, Amber Rose – has made that clear. While many of us harbor the belief that when Donald Trump disappears Republicans will again be receptive to conservatism (indeed, the rhetoric from the likes of Mike Johnson makes it sound as though many Republicans’ hearts are still with Reagan conservatism, even if they don’t practice it), those of us who believe in conservative principles will need to make that case. It will take work to convince many in the party that the “dead consensus” of Reaganism is the future. 

But those of us who believe that the most important things in human life do not change will make that case. National Review took conservatism out of the wilderness and made it mainstream after Nock’s death. And there are many conservative voters today who remember the Republican Party of their youth and long that it would again be home to the three-legged stool. This gives us hope. 

I’ve been referring to the wilderness. Barney Quick likes to refer to the narrow sliver of terrain – that bit of shrinking ground occupied by conservatives who still believe in free markets, social traditionalism, and peace through strength. Justin Stapley writes about rejecting “lesser of two evils” arguments. To exist in the wilderness, or to occupy that narrow sliver of terrain, is to reject both major political parties, to refuse to vote for the lesser of two evils or to defend a candidate unworthy of defense.  

Nock rejected the false choices of his day. And those of us who write for this newsletter reject ours. 

And that stance will influence how I write about the issues of the day, and what I choose to include in the “rank punditry” I have been asked to offer. I am not a pollster, nor a forecaster, nor an election analyst, nor a paid commentator for a national television network. Therefore, I will often rely on the work of those who hold such titles. Like Yogi Berra, I will generally avoid making predictions about the future. We do not know what will happen between now and then, only that something is likely to change. 

My Position on Punditry:

The day after Biden’s disastrous debate performance, pundits predicted that the election was over. The day Trump was shot in the ear, pundits predicted that the election was over. Then Biden stepped aside, threw his support behind Kamala Harris, and – despite the utter predictability of that decision – managed to surprise the Trump campaign. Harris had a big polling jump, and many of the same analysts who had said the election was over on July 13^th now said that she was destined to win. Then her surprising choice of Tim Walz as running mate confounded some and delighted others and gave the Trump campaign a new lease on life. As of this writing, Harris is a little ahead in the polls. 

In each of the examples above, we see that after each major change in the race, declarations that “the election is over” are immediately proven false by subsequent events. Events tend to do that. 

I have long held privately that in the face of uncertainty about the future radical skepticism and agnosticism is the only intelligent position. Anything else borders on hubris, unless it is qualified by heavy disclaimers (which you’ll note most competent election analysts include). I don’t mean religious agnosticism, but a position that the future is unknowable, and that straight-line projections from the present tend to be wrong. 

Taking after Nassim Taleb, my position is that I don’t know what will happen, only that the most important information about the future is the information we don’t have. I will not claim any certainty about what will or won’t happen, or about the outcomes of complex events outside of anyone’s control. I will instead write about what has happened or what is happening, and point readers to other sources who examine polls and tea leaves. 

The other consideration in my analysis will be my position, and that of the Freemen Newsletter, in the political wilderness. Unlike many pundits, I will not root for one party or the other. Nor will I offer advice to the parties or candidates most of the time. 

If that changes, I will be honest and open about it. In the past, I was a Republican and I still vote in Republican primaries. Even with its unconservative platform, the Republican Party more closely aligns with my views. If the Republican Party jettisoned its support for Donald Trump, protectionism, foreign policy dovishness, and assaults on the rule of law, I would once again root for the Republican Party. 

But given that I will be writing in at the top of the ticket, instead of voting for either party’s nominee, my analysis will not be colored by what is good or bad for the Republican or Democratic parties. Whoever wins in November will implement policies I dislike. He or she will probably implement a few that I do, but neither of them will govern based on conservative principles. 

I am therefore less invested in the outcome of this election than most, and I will write accordingly. The questions which interest me are not questions about who will win, or what impact debates or press conferences will have. The questions which interest me are those which bear on the ideological debates of our day. I’m likely to respond to speeches and interviews based on what a particular candidate’s statements mean for movement conservatism, rather than what they mean for swing voters. I’m not a swing voter and I don’t know how swing voters think. 

From the political wilderness, Albert Jay Nock felt free to comment on the events of his day without favor or partisanship. He wrote about what he believed. He analyzed politics not through the lens of what was good for the Republican or Democratic parties, but by asking what they meant for the ideas he held dear. I will do the same. While today’s column has been light on punditry, in future columns I will focus on the vicissitudes of national politics and the fortunes of the parties and their candidates. But I will always endeavor to connect my commentary to the issues readers care about. 

In Closing:

In 1977, the Democratic Party controlled the White House and held supermajorities in both legislative chambers. Richard Nixon had squandered his second term by stooping to “dirty tricks,” which resulted in his resignation when they came to light. The Soviet Union appeared ascendant and Milton Friedman’s being proved right about stagflation was little consolation to the millions of Americans suffering under the effects of a decade of economic planning. 

In 1980, Ronald Reagan was elected president.

The political landscape can change radically in a few short years. Those of us who came of age during the Bush and Obama administration know this. Those who came of age after Trump’s election will one day experience it. Just as the political landscape looked bleak for movement conservatism in 1977, the landscape looks bleak today. Anyone making straight-line projections into the future would say that the Republican Party will remain defined by Trump and Trumpism for a generation. But a generation is a long time. A lot can happen between now and then. 

Thus, despite living in exile (beyond the beyond, where the two parties fear to tread) I have hope (not optimism). Someday conservatives may return from the wilderness. It may even be sooner than we think.