The European Obsession

The European Obsession
Color map of Europe, after the peace of Luneville, Feb. 9, 1801. Archive Photos/Getty Images
Emmet Penney
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The following review is part of RealClear Books and Culture’s symposium on Patrick Deneen’s ‘Regime Change.’
Has the political realignment produced a substantial political vision of its own? Patrick Deneen, a professor of political science at Notre Dame, has attempted to answer this question in his latest book, “Regime Change: Toward a Post-Liberal Order” with dubious results. What’s correct or sympathetic can be found elsewhere, and what’s half-baked or confused is proprietary. Rather than forwarding a coherent path to a post-liberal America, “Regime Change” asks a question found in the pages of Jacobin or Verso’s pop political theory output: Why isn’t America more European?
For Deneen, progress is the problem. The incredible uptick in global wealth brought on by political and economic liberalism has come with costs now undeniable: increasing wealth inequality, environmental degradation, and the ascendance of a tyrannical managerial elite. The last is Deneen’s focus throughout the book. Borrowing from Michael Lind, Christopher Lasch, and James Burnham, Deneen argues that the progressive impulse of modern liberalism has constructed a pseudo-meritocratic elite distant from and hostile to the demos. The pursuits of this class—globalization, wokeism, cosmopolitanism, secularism—rend the fair fabric of the republic to pieces.

But our problems are more fundamental than just bad elite behavior. “Liberalism is today in crisis,” writes Deneen, “not just because of the behavior of the new elite, but because its rise has corresponded with the attrition of institutions that benefited the lower classes while restraining the ambitious who wished to escape its restraints.” An abundance of possessive pronouns without clear referent is one of Deneen’s calling cards. But what he seems to mean is that there were once common bonds of tradition and community that both hemmed in elite ambition and provided everyday people with meaning and solidarity. Consider Sabbath laws and public prayer as examples meaningful to Deneen. Sabbath laws sacralize Sundays out of the market, shielding the working class’s time from the economic ambitions of the elite. Prayer throughout the day serves a similar, smaller function. These also bind the classes within a common belief system.

Liberalism’s secular push to free us from these moorings sacrificed their benefits for little gain. Deneen cites John Stuart Mill as one of the noxious sources for the liberal, progressive perspective. He especially condemns Mill’s concerns about “harm” and respect for “experiments in living,” which Deneen argues have become part of the HR department tyranny that our decadent elites helm. However compelling the examples—and Deneen is at his best when explicating real world examples—he provides no explanation for how Mill, an 19th century British philosopher, came to have such an overweening influence on 21st century American politics. Poverty of explanation is the rule, not the exception for Deneen.

To remedy our ailing system, Deneen suggests we need a new mixed regime: “aristopopulism.” The mixed regime of the Founding Fathers—checks and balances, Federalist 10—isn’t truly mixed. It was more like a tossed salad than a smoothie (Deneen’s metaphor, not mine), keeping all the classes separate. Rather than pitting the ambitions of the classes against each other and achieving stability through inertia, Deneen believes we can rather create a more harmonious intermingling of the high and the low that emphasizes their benefits while mitigating their deficits. This more blended regime offers neglected flyover country paternalism, noblesse oblige, tradition, and material uplift. What it offers the new elites remains unobvious, other than avoiding the danger of our “cold civil war” turning hot. Or perhaps accelerating societal decay should furnish them with the needed impetus. Whatever the case, for Deneen, the real mixed regime has never been tried in America.

Whence comes aristopopulism? Deneen turns toward Aristotle, Aquinas, Benjamin Disraeli, Polybius, Lasch, and Edmund Burke for inspiration. This is where Deneen gets into the most trouble. The thinkers he pulls from don’t hang together, nor do his own arguments about them. Take Burke. Deneen wants us to believe Burke was not a liberal. Burke, in Deneen’s retelling, both favored the people and believed (like him) that they were inherently conservative. Later, Deneen must admit that Burke was a liberal, but of the “pre-ideological” kind—whatever that means. Putting Burke on the same side as Lasch baffles. Lasch did not respect Burke and saw him as yet another condescending British aristocrat who preferred—for the people—the shadows of tradition on the cave wall to reality. In his master work, “The True and Only Heaven: Progress and Its Critics,” Lasch writes of Burke: “we should see Burke not as a traditionalist, strictly speaking, but as the sociologist of oblivion.” Deneen must know this, as he quotes from “The True and Only Heaven” towards the end of “Regime Change.” So, how are these men’s instincts and arguments to be synthesized? We’ll never know—at least not from Deneen.

However shaky the details, the gist of the argument is that America needs a regime change toward traditionalism and away from secular modernism. Deneen offers Christian democracy as we’ve seen in Europe as the solution. That looks possible for America insofar as America is a Western country, even though for Deneen, America’s founding was invariably progressive and liberal. And that’s the shell game he plays throughout the book.

Deneen argues that tradition is vital to mixing the classes, both for restraining elite ambition and preserving the dignity of the lower ranks. Without tradition, we lack context and mutual obligation. Saying that America shares in the Western tradition allows him to present his arguments as native to the American milieu without having to meaningfully engage with the American canon. We get cameos from the 17th century puritan Jonathan Winthrop, the anti-Federalist Melancton Smith, and Martin Luther King, Jr., with lip service to the Founding Fathers and Lincoln, (many of these are crammed into the last chapter) but no sustained treatment of America as a specific cultural and political formation. Deneen spends most of his time quoting from classical thinkers or from Europeans. For all his insistence on localism, nationalism, and patriotism, Deneen’s vision feels imported from abroad. Here we have a book about America’s need for so-called aristopopulism in which Henry Adams is never quoted and Andrew Jackson appears not at all. How is this possible?

The basic answer: Americans hold their own contributions in low regard. This is true even in the academy. How can it be that America has more Nietzsche scholars than Emerson scholars, though the latter was not only American but a substantial influence on the former? There can be no American traditionalism without esteem for Americanism as a tradition. The issue isn’t that Deneen can’t make his argument pulling from the American canon; it’s that he doesn’t. Deneen comes off as another deracinated product of elite institutions who looks longingly across the Atlantic—this time toward Christian democracy as opposed to social democracy—to reckon his own country. Many such cases.
Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.
Emmet Penney
Emmet Penney
Author
Emmet Penney is the editor-in-chief of the daily energy newsletter, Grid Brief, and the host of the Nuclear Barbarians podcast. Mr. Penney is also a contributing editor at Compact. You can follow his armwrestling Substack, The King’s Move.
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