What is Conservatism? Part IV

What is Conservatism? Part IV January 13, 2009

What is Conservatism? Part I

What is Conservatism? Part II
What is Conservatism? Part III

After reading some of the works of the unjustly overlooked British philosopher Michael Oakeshott, I would like to return to the question of defining this term, the “ism” that is not. Previous attempts have generalized as the negation of ideology, the political secularization of the doctrine of original sin, the cautious sentiment tempered by prudence, the product of organic, local human organization observing and reforming its customs, the distaste for a priori principle disassociated from historical experience, a rejection of frameworks of action, tenets, theory, and article of faith, and as an approach, a style, a sentiment, and a bias against efforts of utopianism, against ideology, and against the promise of a bright new future casting aside considerations of human nature. Oakeshott insists upon a propensity to enjoy what is available rather than to constantly wish for something else, and to delight in what is present rather than what was or what may be. The aesthetic experience, in other words, is reflective of ethical life.

Oakeshott writes that to be conservative – that is, to share in the conservative sentiments – is to thematically engage, to appreciate, not a creed or a doctrine but a disposition. To what end? To a manner of thinking and of behavior in certain vital matters, namely the preference of certain kinds of conduct and conditions of human circumstances to others. These are, in turn, constructed from within contemporary circumstance rather than transported from an idiom of general principle – which may be the beginning of ideology.

Here we return to the previous generalization of appreciation for the present, even as there are consistent efforts for reform (the cautious, humble, historically-rooted reform of Edmund Burke). Such a reflection is invitation to gratefulness, and as such an acknowledgement of the fragile ethical inheritance of the past. Esteem must not follow the new or the advanced because of novelty, but because of measures of inherent worth. Change, likewise, will always come, and it should find societal acceptance as a general principle. Yet, following Burke’s warning, Oakeshott advocates against large-scale, abstract, quick change (especially for the sake of itself): the good society, and the kinship and friendships that form the foundations of a strong one, cannot very well tolerate rapid innovation. As individuals, as family units, and as societal actors, humans prefer the familiar to the unknown, the tried to the untried, fact to mystery, the actual to the possible, the limited to the unbound, the near to the distant, the sufficient to the superabundant, the convenient to the perfect, and present laughter to the glittering promise of utopian bliss. Change and circumstance will long be with us, but how often, he asks us, do we ponder how well we can accommodate them?

Oakeshott finds his conservatism not in aversion, but in accommodation. Every change is an emblem of extinction and a threat to identity. The human of conservative temperament (one, in this context, supportive of identity preservation) should judge by the disturbances they entail. Aware that not all innovation is an improvement, and appreciative of the good of the present, such a person will think that to innovate without improvement is either a designed or an inadvertent folly, but folly all the same. As every improvement involves change, this judgment must weigh the benefits (most especially to aesthetic and spiritual health) and also the benefits anticipated. Innovation, however, is an equivocal enterprise, in which gain and loss (including familiarity) are so closely connected that it is often difficult to forecast the future – and there is no such thing as an unqualified earthly improvement.

The human of conservative temperament and aesthetic prefers the small and the limited to the large and the indefinite, a slow rather than a rapid pace, and stops to observe current consequences and make appropriate adjustments. The occasion has importance as well: the most favorable occasion for innovation is when the projected change is to be limited to its intention and least likely to be corrupted by undesired, unforeseen, unmanageable consequences. The disposition is “warm and positive” in respect of enjoyment and “cool and critical” in respect of change and innovation, two inclinations which support and elucidate one another. The known good is not to be surrendered for an unknown better.

This leaves much to be discussed beyond sentiment, and so future considerations will concern cautious, aesthetic conservatism beyond sentiment and toward politics. Where this line of thought took Oakeshott was actually toward what he termed “radicalism,” even as he maintained a conservative (skeptical) disposition of organization and government.


Browse Our Archives