I think it’s fairly uncontroversial to say that ‘liberalism’ (for now, a placeholder) has not come under such scrutiny, or under such a relentless wave of attacks, in living memory. If ever. And to be sure, it has never been more deserving of the attacks that it currently must endure if it is to maintain its position as the last great ideology. But perhaps even that is premature.
Indeed, much of what I want to talk about in this Substack post reflects on the fact that I don’t think liberalism can or will survive the current onslaught. A bold prediction, perhaps, but the writing is on the wall and has been for some time.
Though there has been an absolute slew written and said on the topic—on liberalism and its discontents—there seems to be a reluctance to really define what it is we mean by liberalism. Understandable, given the broadness of the ideology itself and the many, many contradictory interpretations of its tenets. But it seems unhelpful to simply wave one’s hand in the general vicinity of Enlightenment ideals and decry “Liberalism, the great tyranny!” before waxing lyrical about things you don’t like about our current state of affairs, and placing them all squarely at the feet of this great tyranny.
So what is Liberalism?
For my immediate purposes, there are two kinds of liberalism. There is Manchester-styled liberalism, which focuses on autonomy, neutrality, and limiting the nature and role of the state. This form of liberalism has become more commonly associated with libertarianism and prioritizes a rights-based approach to the functioning of the individuals in a society. Adherents of this ‘classical’ liberalism advocate for the equal treatment of individuals – this feature is something worth remembering, as it distinguishes classical liberalism from what I will refer to as egalitarian liberalism and then simply as ‘liberalism’ going forward.
While many wish it weren’t so, when we talk about liberalism and the current status quo, we are not talking about Manchester-styled liberalism. In fact, we are very far removed from anything even remotely resembling classical liberalism as a ‘ruling ideology’. But, nonetheless, there are shared ideological roots at the heart of both classical and egalitarian liberalism that one would be remiss not to mention in any analysis of these two separate ideologies.
Egalitarian liberalism ditches the idea of equal treatment of individuals for treating individuals as equals. This is a subtle shift, but its implications completely redefine what it is we mean when we talk about ‘equality’ and how a fair and just society ought to function. There are many ways around this topic, but to fully understand the implications, it is best to work by way of example.
In a neutral society—a society in which the state is neutral about the conceptions of the ‘good’ its citizens pursue—there will be unequal outcomes based merely on the fact that individuals will make different decisions based upon their own priors. In this society, the neutral state (here I refer to a hypothetical classical liberal state) will consider its actions (and inactions) justifiable provided that it did not prioritise one conception of the ‘good’ over another (thereby treating preferably one group over another).
The outcomes, though different, are just because the institutions that they spring from are just.
The problem, however, is that this idea of neutrality is a fiction. And if it were not a fiction, then it would not be a preferable system in any case. One might say that, given the nature of democracy, some conceptions of the ‘good’ will be prioritised, even in broadly homogenous societies, but I think the issue is even more fundamental than that. A preference, for instance, for the principle of autonomy over harm (and harm-related principles) has a dramatic effect on any statecraft that follows. We can distil this simply by saying that certain laws, unavoidably, must choose from competing conceptions of the ‘good’.
Abortion laws must necessarily choose between secular and religious conceptions of ‘life’, as must any laws relating to advanced cell research and human ‘engineering’. Of course, any violent crimes and the punishments that follow rely upon these same conceptions: where autonomy is prioritised, or where harm is prioritised, it is unavoidable that a conception of the good—of the good life and all that entails—will take precedence.
But even if this were not the case, and some form of strict neutrality was possible, it does not strike me as obvious that this would be a good thing!
By way of example, and to draw the frame back to the distinction between classical and egalitarian liberalism: if a father was presented with his two children, one of whom is sick, and the other healthy, he would not opt to treat both his children with the same medicine.
To do so would be to treat them equally, even in a situation in which treating them equally would be unjust. Another way of looking at this would be to try and evaluate the correct actions that a father should take while watching his two sons fight. If he is to remain a casual observer, can he make the claim to neutrality? All things being equal, perhaps. But what if the one son is larger and stronger, and the outcome seems a foregone conclusion? Conceding even that he may still remain neutral, is that what we want? Is this strict neutrality appealing, and ought we use it as a rubric for society? Egalitarian liberals say no, of course.
And I think there are a number of very good reasons for saying no, too. Most of these reasons relate to the egalitarian nature of this form of liberalism, which I will not dwell on here as it requires a significant exploration of the concepts of ‘just desserts’, ‘fairness’ and other such moral questions best left to another time.
However, I think the above is enough to provide you with at least a bare sketch of what I mean when I talk about liberalism. There is the classical conception, which prioritises ‘autonomy’ and ‘neutrality’, and then there is the egalitarian conception, with a focus on treating individuals as equals.The divide between the two really begins at the concept of ‘neutrality’, and many of the differences flow from there.
Much can be said, too, about the preference egalitarian liberals give to harm vs autonomy—and this is something I shall remark upon later (with the impact it has upon the nature of coercion). But from this sketch, I think it’s quite clear where some of the laws enabled by the status quo do spring from. From here, we can find a line to substantive equality and affirmative action and, directly, to the welfare state.
Has Liberalism Failed?
In truth, whether or not egalitarian liberalism has failed is beside the point. The only question that matters here is whether or not people think it has failed. And whether or not people think it has failed depends largely upon what was expected of it in the first place. If, for instance, one expected our current hierarchy to respect an ‘inalienable’ conception of human rights, then one would be sorely disappointed with the last two years (longer, really).
I, personally, don’t believe in ‘human rights’. That is, I don’t believe in the classical conception of them: there are no inalienable rights that exist outside of space and time, or as a result of our human nature, or granted to us through God. I do, however, believe in a political conception of human rights. And while these aren’t as deeply entrenched as the naturalists (truly inalienable), we should be very cautious both when we use them to justify action (humanitarian intervention, for instance) and when we stifle or limit them. If we are willing to limit them for non-principled reasons, then these so-called rights lose any and all value.
This brings me to the issue of harm. Another handy distinction can be found here when it comes to classical and egalitarian liberals. For the classical liberal, force and the threat of force are justifiable reasons to act in self-defence (to use force in return). For the egalitarian liberal, this conception of force and of coercion has been expanded, and from this expanded definition flows much of what characterises the current liberal ‘order’.
Force and threat of force now encompass more than just the threat of physical violence (as the classical liberal would have it) but includes any action that forces one to act not according to one’s own plan but to serve the ends of another. Anything that forces me to act for the preservation of what I value, at the whim of another, now falls broadly under the definition of coercion. Some might be surprised, but this definition comes from Hayek (further affirming my claim that he was a lefty-lib!)
If one were to apply the same logic to this definition—that actual force or the threat of force provides justifiable reasons to act in self-defence—we are left with the unsettling conclusion that force may be used against those who seek to compel us to act according to the plans of another. One might imagine a situation in which workers may claim they are being coerced,as their employers are not willing to negotiate wage increases, or perhaps renew their contracts etc.—the broadness of the definition opens many doors!
And it is this same broadness that has been used to justify both the economic and social restrictions that we have been burdened with since the onset of the pandemic. Harm here, rather than autonomy, is prioritised. And with a definition wide enough to include more than just force and threat of force, it can be used to justify just about anything.
And it has been. Whether justifiable or not—that is, whether we opt for some deontological or consequentialist calculus to determine whether or not we’ve made the right decisions throughout the pandemic—this is a question about perception. Liberalism has constantly and consistently made a claim to universalism (this is true for both classical & egalitarian liberalism) and for the inalienability of rights that flows from this universalism. And yet, within the space of a year, these rights have been replaced with considerations heavily based upon harm.
Now, as far as metrics go, harm is a pretty good one to rely upon. But, we must inevitably face the age-old utilitarian problem of not knowing the outcomes of our decisions when we make these decisions. And this is where the errors begin, and perceptions begin to slide.
The Authority of Liberalism
I’ve written about it elsewhere, but the current nature of the authority of the institutions that govern us is not something I would describe as true authority. The reason that most people act is that they agree with the reasons given to them for acting. Whether this is from institutions that make the claim to authority (government) or from other parallel institutions that make no claim to actual authority (news & media outlets, academia etc.)
We act for content-dependent reasons and would have acted thusly if we had identified the same reasons to act on our own. The more often we find their reasons and recommendations align with the truth, the more value we attribute to their future recommendations—sometimes even giving up our decision-making capabilities entirely (deferring to their judgment on the matter).
The current order is built around this relationship between content-dependent reasons for action and the institutions that offer content-dependent reasons to act. We think of these as governments—who make an actual claim to authority, and other institutions that don’t make an actual claim to authority (media, academia, ‘science’, ‘history’, etc.)
What I mean by a ‘claim to authority’ is that they either do or do not expect their recommendations to be complied with. Government makes an actual claim to authority and expects compliance, while secondary institutions do not expect compliance but nonetheless offer reasons for actions.
These secondary institutions are man-made and rely entirely upon the figures that govern their functions from within. This is different from, say, science as a philosophy—which we can define as a set of rules, or a certain approach to general questions and answers. That is, its functions and operations are not determined ad hoc or in the face of new information and data. While science as an ‘institution’ may, depending on the manner in which it operates, err, act inconsistently, be manipulated, bribed, be motivated by political concerns etc.
When these human institutions get things wrong, the weight we attribute to their reasons for actions diminishes; we no longer value the information that they have to offer and look elsewhere for sufficient reasons for actions. This often means competitors or, otherwise, to institutions that make their own claims to authority (such as international organisations).
To use a recent example of this: science (the institution) has taken many hits of late. As a result, science (the philosophy) has also come under immense scrutiny. What happened? Well, we entered into a period where the focus of individuals, of other institutions (those who claim and do not claim authority) and competing institutions, were all centred on science as an institution. The media apparatus highlighted any inconsistencies (sometimes over a period of weeks, even hours) and a system more used to the slow, formal processes of the past made missteps.
But these missteps were exacerbated by a media apparatus that is ill-equipped to deal with both science as an institution and science as a philosophy. People know that as new data emerges, we may end up drawing different conclusions than we may have six months ago. However, the media, which ought to know better, was boldly making truth claims on the basis of single studies or emergent facts that had not yet been tested, ridiculing competing hypotheses and claims, and generally making a fool of itself. Having to roll back claims six months after making them is not good for credibility. Getting caught editing your claims after the fact is even worse. But that is exactly what has been happening. And it’s nothing new; it’s simply been made more obvious by the current global crisis.
As a result, our trust in both these institutions (science and the media) has faltered. Many people simply do not take any truth claims for granted, and the value we attribute to their reasons for actions has diminished. Neither of these things sounds intuitively problematic—to use the cliché: having a healthy scepticism is healthy, after all.
And yet, still, something has come undone as a result. Perhaps it is a few things: the polarising nature of ‘facts’, ‘alternative facts’, and the current discourse we are entering into. But the first divide we find ourselves standing in front of is the legitimacy of science as an institution—and in the midst of a public health crisis. Probably not well-timed.
Regardless of whether there is merit to this faltering trust (I think there is), these institutions must now become self-justifying in order to prove their value. Easy enough for science once it unbungles itself. But the media? Not so easy, especially after being at the forefront of so much bullshit these past couple of years. And it’s not just the media and science that must face these criticisms—the government, global institutions such as the WHO, WEF, etc., will all be tasked with deflecting and limiting the criticism they are confronted with over the coming years.
In the short term, this just means that people will be less likely to accept the content-dependent reasons given by these now maligned institutions. But where there has been crossover between the institutions that merely provide recommendations, and those that demand compliance (the state), there is the risk that we will disrupt this weak authority itself.
When this occurs—when governments can no longer rely on providing reasons for actions in order to gain compliance—they must instead turn to the oldest of all coercive tools: the stick. And this is happening already, as more and more people become reluctant to follow government-mandated restrictions. And in doing so, they are proving Schmitt’s critique of Constitutional Democracies (at least, in some sense) correct.
While this may seem hyperbolic—drawing a link between the failure of institutions to provide reliable reasons to act and then predicting the absolute breakdown of law and order in liberal societies, it does seem to me to follow logically! That is because these institutions have become so embedded in the current order that their breakdown—indeed, any of their failings—fundamentally influences the system itself.
The irony here is that, if Cathedralists and Bugmen Twitter were correct, the ‘Cathedral’ would have walked in lockstep during this pandemic, and the disconnect between the media and other institutions would have been less obvious. But these are complicated systems that do not fall within this simple category-system illiberals have devised. And because they are complicated systems, these errors in their functioning manifest themselves quite clearly and obviously when they do occur, exposing them to the criticism they must now overcome.
Polarisation
Aside from the obvious use of force as a content-dependent reason to act, the breakdown of these institutions brings with it a perhaps altogether more serious problem. When we determine that the current channels are no longer reliable, we are motivated to find other outlets (whether scientific, academic, media-related) which we believe will provide us with accurate reporting. These institutions may provide us with content-dependent reasons to act, but those actions may very well be out of line with the reasons to act provided by, for instance, the state. And this is where things begin to unravel for the current order!
Polarisation and divisiveness per se are not really ‘problematic’, and you will find room for them in any discourse worthy of the name. Indeed, disagreement is healthy for the expansion of knowledge (and one of the reasons we ought to protect freedom of expression). Various communities growing further apart as their own value systems begin to split is not even a problem—there are solutions here, such as further federalisation, secession, pluralism, etc. However, when this polarisation begins to occur within communities—when the difference between our values, politics, and ideologies becomes so remarkably different, then the tensions here will threaten to combust into something more than mere friction.
When confronted by this fact, the institutions that have fallen out of favour with certain crowds—through missteps, bias, transparency issues, lying, whatever!—seem to take positively illiberal steps to counter the growing alternative/parallel market forming. That is, once these institutions begin to fail, they rely on censorship as a means to prevent their de facto audience from consuming alternative reasons for action. This may not be the plan, but it is the inevitable consequence of something sinister that has snuck into the liberal status quo—something more suited, I think, to the illiberal state.
We must be careful not to attribute a certain form of intention to the manner in which the cards fall here: that something benefits certain groups (mainstream media) does not mean that there is a concerted effort or some conspiracy between these institutions and government to monopolise the distribution of knowledge. Maybe there is, but the mere fact that it is occurring is not evidence of a conspiracy that was directed toward it.
There are, of course, justifications for censorship, and one cannot dismiss them offhand simply because they do not meet either the classical or egalitarian liberal demands. Nonetheless, both of these forms of liberalism accept that freedom of speech is something that cannot be sacrificed, and the reasoning for this normally follows Mill. I think these are good reasons: that censorship stifles the quest for truth, that the truth may often fall victim to such regimes, that allowing debate refines the arguments for truth, and that, often, there are hints of truth in such falsehoods that help enlighten the actual truth.
That we’ve normalised forms of censorship seems to me to be a result of that switch I mentioned at the start of this piece—from autonomy to harm as our primary consideration. This switch is very much a calculated one, and it may be that it is done in the face of two positions that simply cannot be overcome—the rising tide of misinformation and disinformation in our society and the inability of our current institutions to stem said tide (while their own internal failings making this close to impossible). So, the risk is calculated—we must censor this information in the hopes that we can reduce the damage our own failing media, academic, scientific, etc., institutions have been unable to stem. Once these institutions lose the trust of the people they try to offer reasons to, it seems to be near impossible to win it back. And yet, with harm as a primary consideration, the state must step in in order to mitigate the possible damage we face as a consequence of this failure (which potentially makes things worse).
It is the failings of our current institutions, both of the authority claiming and the parallel institutions, that has made these actions necessary! But censorship could never have been a permanent answer to the problem! Indeed, all it really does is motivate those who no longer accept the current order’s reasons for action to find alternative outlets, which leads to this deepening polarisation.
Now, in these kinds of actions—institutional failure (both to present the truth accurately and to critique falsehoods reliably), and then in censorship, we find the nuggets of the fall of liberal democracy. Given how much the west prides itself on ‘democracy’, I suspect we will simply drop the ‘liberal’ aspect and continue on with ‘illiberal’ democracies.
There are two possible outcomes here. First, the current form of liberal democracy may continue down its current path, slowly transforming as its institutions fail into something resembling a more authoritarian state. Alternatively, the current system will be entirely replaced through upheaval by some alternative system consisting of institutions that follow different rules.
The latter seems unlikely, at least for now. But the former has been happening for years! Indeed, if one were to consider the two definitions of ‘liberalism’ that I provided at the start of the piece, I think one would struggle to apply either of them to the current order. The pandemic has highlighted many of the shortfalls of our society, and this is not just limited to the failings of our institutions. This idea of equal consideration, or treating people as equals, seems to play almost no role in policy considerations or in the way that we’ve handled the pandemic.
Treating people as equals does not mean treating people equally (as the formal classical approach to equality dictates), but rather acknowledges that not all people require the same things in order to pursue their conception of ‘the good life’. If this framework were applied during the pandemic, I doubt we would have witnessed the ‘scuppering out’ of the middle-class, nor the absolute profit-run made by elites and the super-rich.
How nations can shut down their economies without providing substantive and consistent aid for the various groups that make the economy is beyond me. Harm, as a consideration, should not (and does not, in my opinion) only take into account actual physical harm. But economic, social, cultural forms, too. And it is these latter forms of harm that we will feel as a consequence of the lack of balancing engaged in by our governments (and particularly in South Africa, where the safety net provided has been almost non-existent).
But it is not only the decisions that have been made that should make us pause. The manner in which they have been undertaken is equally concerning. The democratic process has slumped almost entirely, while power has moved ever upward, consolidating at the centre of an increasingly centralised state. What safeguards our Constitutions (arguably one of the great successes of liberalism) offered were very quickly stripped away as emergency powers were adopted, all in the name of harm reduction. This consolidation of power has left us with a structure that looks a lot like the aristocracies we seek to avoid! But we cast a blind eye until we disagree with the actions undertaken and the policy choices made.
This, I think, is a mistake. I think it is a mistake because the actions undertaken once power shifted to the top were often very poor and not in alignment with any form of equal consideration, and also because I do not think that harm as a consideration has been utilised adequately (that is, not all considerations have been given proper weighting). A consequence of this has been, and will be, further distrust in the institutions that make a claim to authority.
I’m also not entirely convinced that the shift from autonomy to harm is a good one. To be clear, this is not an argument for ‘muh freedom’. Autonomy as a primary consideration does not mean your freedom should be unlimited. Rather, it means that actions that limit another’s autonomy should be themselves limited (we can compare this to the harm principle, too, though it is less restrictive). What actions might limit another’s autonomy are fairly wide-ranging, but causing the sickness of another through irresponsible actions would, of course, be one of these things. The difference is that when using autonomy as a primary consideration, one is forced to consider the autonomy of the individuals affected by whatever policy consideration (aside from just the harm and general well-being of these individuals). Some of the conclusions may be the same, but others I think would be markedly different!
What Next?
Unless a realignment occurs, we’ll probably see a slow and continued transformation toward a less liberal form of democracy (at least in the west). Something to watch on this front will be the vaccine rollout. Despite the constant discourse we’re seeing, I have my doubts that it will be made mandatory in most countries, simply given the fact that the bureaucrats in government must be aware that their positions are becoming more precarious as the various institutions around them are tested.
In any case, I think such a move would not be consistent with either classical or egalitarian liberal principles. One could use the harm principle here, as David Benatar does in his piece concerning the question of mandatory vaccines.
His argument, which is a liberal one, is fairly straightforward: this right to freedom does not extend to harming others (wrongfully). By electing not to take precautions against COVID (wearing masks, socially distancing, getting the vaccine), one is not acting consistently with this harm + freedom-based approach to liberalism. Therefore, one cannot rely on a right to liberty in order to justify avoiding vaccination (as this is inconsistent with the principles you are claiming to rely upon).
So, based on that reasoning, you have a moral duty to take the vaccine if you make a claim to liberal principles. But does that mean that the state is justified in forcing you to take the vaccine? Benatar says no! The harm caused by utilizing mandatory vaccinations as a tool would outweigh any benefits (this is balancing liberty as a consideration with harm as a parallel consideration).
Benatar goes on to suggest a number of ‘lesser liberty infringing’ alternatives. This seems to me to be the correct approach. Though, when it comes to how we ought to govern and manage private corporations and their right of refusal when it comes to vaccinated and non-vaccinated people, the question becomes far more complicated, and I am not so sure of my position on it (there seem to be some parallels here relating to the big tech question, too— that is: it’s complicated and requires an altogether different sort of balancing!)
The next big battle after this one will, I suspect, be one that reverts back to the problem of big tech. In this, we must face the fact that the old ideas that shaped (all) liberalism and conservatism may simply not be adequate in dealing with the digital revolution and its consequences. Libertarians will tell you, “leave it be,” for what could be more liberal than allowing individuals to determine the nature of their relations with private companies? But autonomy is not and ought not to be the only consideration. Societies may be shaped by individuals, but individuals are in turn shaped by society.
To quote, perhaps cheekily, the great illiberal thinker Joseph de Maistre:
“There is no such thing as man in the world. I have seen, during my life, Frenchmen, Italians, Russians, etc. … But as far as man is concerned, I declare that I have never in my life met him; if he exists, he is unknown to me.”
In this next great battle I think, again, that the egalitarian liberal has the advantage over the classical liberal (and its libertarian cousin). But first, we must accept that strict neutrality is not possible! This does not mean that all bets are off—neutrality is, after all, a question of degrees. It means, merely, that there are conceptions of the ‘good’ that will inevitably be prioritised by government and other institutions.
The question should become one of balancing autonomy with harm.Autonomy, in this instance, relating to the rights of an individual vs harm as a societal consideration! Again, a balancing of values lies at the root of the answer to this question.
If, however, this problem is ignored—as perhaps the classical liberal would have it—we risk running into a form of authoritarianism that exists outside and functions differently to one in which the state becomes the chief organiser of a society. This could, I think plausibly, be a more threatening form of illiberalism in that it lacks the more obvious characteristics that would identify it as immediately dangerous.
And yet, as we sell off the patrimony of our countries to the private sector, we inevitably expand the domain of those not accountable to you, the individual, and we, the people. Having consideration for more than just autonomy or harm gives us the opportunity to curb this before it becomes a fully-fledged parallel set of institutions that function alongside the state, and eventually, in its place. But in order for that to happen, we need to first accept that there is a problem, to begin with!
Cataclysmic Predications and the Nazi Nostradamus
Before I end, there is another possible outcome to this whole mess, one predicted by my favourite illiberal thinker many years ago. And by ‘favourite’, I do not mean I endorse his positions, merely that Guillaume Faye often provides some interesting perspective to my generally liberal reading of things.
Somehow, through the miasma of the 90s, this French illiberal predicted a coming crisis that would concern epidemics, geopolitical, environmental, economic, and ‘cultural’ upheavals. To him, this would be the culmination of the many ideological contradictions that finally converge to create the mother of all catastrophes! He predicted that this would occur between 2010 and 2020.
His prediction, however, was that the fault lines such a crisis would form would signal the death knell of egalitarian liberalism. What would follow would be the division and restructuring of societies into highly advanced tech enclaves, who would then form their own economies at the top of society. The rest of the world, unfortunately, would fall back into some form of semi-feudal traditionalism.
The idea, of course, is horrifying. Fortunately, I do not see it coming to fruition. At least not in the way he predicted. There may, however, be some nugget of truth to be found in his prediction. Perhaps it will be that we end up with a set of highly advanced liberal egalitarian enclaves that slowly turn away from the world—and perhaps, the US departure from Afghanistan was the first step on the road to such a reality.
provocative and fine essay. Old debate between positive and negative liberty / freedom. but, is liberalism losing? Was it ever winning? :)