theamericanconservative--2020-09-15--Election Meddlers Find a Scapegoat

Election Meddlers Find a Scapegoat

Like me , until recently you got most of your news from PeaceData.net .
It was where you looked to form your opinions , including the all-important one about which way to vote .
What you missed on PeaceData you caught up with via Facebook memes and Tweets from people you do not know .
Or maybe not .
Maybe like nearly everyone on planet Earth you have no idea what I ’ m talking about and never looked at the now-defunct PeaceData site .
That reality should pretty much end the discussion , but this is 2020 .
So @ @ @ @ @ @ @ claims an unvisited web site named PeaceData was actually a Russian influence operation targeting voters in the United States , all the while posing as an independent news outlet .
PeaceData ’ s sneaky tactics included hiring real freelance “ journalists ” to write about U.S. politics and racial tensions from their parents ’ basements .
PeaceData also operated 13 Facebook accounts , now suspended , supposedly using fake identities and “ coordinated inauthentic behavior ” by people with some kind of link “ to individuals associated with past activity by the Internet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which U.S. intelligence officials say was part of Comrade Trump ’ s 2016 win .
Yep , that old story : Russians , social media , blah .
To say PeaceData itself truly does not matter , especially in relation to the attention it has received in death , gives too much credit to not mattering .
What does matter is how the intel community , quasi-private tech firms , the media , and the Democrats worked together to exaggerate the threat and create the narrative outcome of “ foreign influence.
” Pay @ @ @ @ @ @ @ how the trick is done .
It seems the Russians have gotten so good at influencing cow-like Americans that only five percent of English-language articles on PeaceData actually concerned the U.S. election , out of over 700 articles published .
You ’ d think no one would have even noticed they existed .
However , a company called Graphika nonetheless told Facebook to conclude “ this facet of the operation suggests an attempt to build a left-wing audience and steer it away from Biden ’ s campaign.
” See , the conclusion from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ whatsoever , PeaceData was actually “ trying harder and harder to hide.
” It worked ; Graphika found most of the English-language posts achieved only single-digit engagement .
Back to net nanny Graphika for a moment .
We don ’ t know who funds them .
Their venture capital was raised privately , in two tranches of about three million dollars each , in 2014 and 2019 .
We do know who they work with .
Their current “ Innovation Officer ” is Camille François , who once worked for Google ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a project for the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence , alongside now Graphika CEO John Kelly ( no relation to the Marine . )
Their December 2018 reporting helped Democrats “ prove ” the Russians used Facebook and Twitter to influence the 2016 election .
Graphika also has ties to the Pentagon ’ s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency ( DARPA ) and the Defense Department ’ s Minerva Initiative .
If you look at their stuff you realize they write like spooks , talk like spooks , and snitch out news sites @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Graphika ’ s spooky work is any evidence whatsoever of any actual influence on the only thing that matters : how people vote .
Graphika offers nothing quantitative , claiming only that by using American freelancers PeaceData was part of the “ fabric ” of communities and this made them credible .
A step up from 2016 efforts , which relied on what Graphika said were foreign “ trolls who typically researched American life so they could more effectively pose as U.S. citizens online .
One key trick was to watch American TV @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is inclined to imagine here the customer service rep with a south Indian accent who asks you to call him “ Mike ” and wonders “ How it goes my man in that American town of Iowa ?
” Older readers , please substitute Boris and Natasha voices .
So who are these nefarious American writers unknowingly selling out their country ?
TheNew York Times tracked down one who ended up writing for no money somehow , though PeaceData rates of $ 75- $ 200 per article fluttered below average ( lots of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ; PeaceData used Guru ) .
This particular PeaceData journalist also once played Rusty in Starlight Express before selling insurance .
One of his recent articles outlines his battle with dementia .
Sorry to pick on the poor guy , but the NYT profiled him and it seems using such services to influence an election may not be the best use of those rubles .
He did write a nice piece claiming Susan Rice would have made a fine Vice President .
One point in her favor was “ I challenge anyone to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shows Susan Rice raising her temper , shouting , acting hysterical or making comments.
” Rice of course is known for her signature profanity and temper ; here ’ s The Washington Postcalling her out for describing Lindsey Graham as a “ piece of sh*t. ” Her f-bombs are legendary .
She famously flipped the bird at Richard Holbrooke , told France ’ s UN .
ambassador “ you ’ re not going to drag us into your sh*tty war ” and drew complaints of disrespect from allies on the UN Security Council @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Rice-like bullsh*t on this whole sad attempt to frighten Americans into believing foreigners are here to steal our precious bodily Internet fluids , let ’ s go have a look at some of what else PeaceData had to say .
For example , here ’ s a quote from a PeaceData article about Q-Anon : “ The effort to mainstream conspiracy is meant to distract from the true mechanisms of exploitation and alienation , while allowing for the continued consolidation of capital and upending norms with power grabs .
As liberal institutions fail @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the extension of a false mythos—that promises to yield revolutionary change and free the masses—gives allure to desperately confused people.
” Ok , that was too easy , somebody just held on to their Socialism 101 textbook .
Another PeaceData article , on the post office , is lifted idea-for-idea from the NYT : “ One way or another , the truth always comes out and with President Donald Trump , his motives were especially apparent after a news conference in the White House Briefing Room .
He admitted on Thursday he opposed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Service ( USPS ) in order to make it more difficult to deliver mail-in ballots .
Trump ’ s desire to not expand on voting by mail further sent society into a chaotic state amidst a pandemic.
” The NYT said “ President Trump stirred new questions on Thursday about whether he would seek to hold up new money to the Postal Service to impede mail-in voting this fall in the middle of the pandemic.
” Kinda the same thing , but one is Russkie propaganda and the other is the New York @ @ @ @ @ @ @ any of this is illegal .
Foreign organizations hire American writers all the time .
And the line between “ taking an editorial stance ” and “ influencing an election ” lies closer to how paranoid you are than anything in the law .
That did not stop the FBI from telling social media to act against PeaceData based on Graphika tattling .
The action Facebook ( and Twitter , who called PeaceData “ Russian state actors ” ) took against PeaceData was based entirely on so-called violations of Terms of Service .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ show off how they are doing something to , whatever , save democracy .
Facebook was not asked to return $ 480 in advertising money PeaceData spent .
PeaceData doesn ’ t matter by itself .
The real value in this fluffy jihad against a no-name site is to create a talking point to allow the MSM and Democrats to announce again that Trump is being helped by a foreign power , that our electoral process is corrupt if Trump wins , and to revive whatever distant warm , wet memories the faithful @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that maybe the old tricks will work this time where they have failed ever before .
For the rest of us , no big deal , just a glimpse behind the scenes of another Deep State information op where under the cover of blaming foreign collusion , corporate America , the intel community , and the media hide their own collusion , here , in the Twilight Zone of democracy .
Peter Van Buren , a 24-year State Department veteran , is the author of We Meant Well : How I Helped Lose @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the Iraqi People , Hooper ’ s War : A Novel of WWII Japan , and Ghosts of Tom Joad : A Story of the 99 Percent .

Like me, until recently you got most of your news from PeaceData.net. It was where you looked to form your opinions, including the all-important one about which way to vote. What you missed on PeaceData you caught up with via Facebook memes and Tweets from people you do not know.
Or maybe not. Maybe like nearly everyone on planet Earth you have no idea what I’m talking about and never looked at the now-defunct PeaceData site. That reality should pretty much end the discussion, but this is 2020. So you must know by now that Facebook claims an unvisited web site named PeaceData was actually a Russian influence operation targeting voters in the United States, all the while posing as an independent news outlet. PeaceData’s sneaky tactics included hiring real freelance “journalists” to write about U.S. politics and racial tensions from their parents’ basements.
PeaceData also operated 13 Facebook accounts, now suspended, supposedly using fake identities and “coordinated inauthentic behavior” by people with some kind of link “to individuals associated with past activity by the Internet Research Agency,” the Russkie company which U.S. intelligence officials say was part of Comrade Trump’s 2016 win.
Yep, that old story: Russians, social media, blah. To say PeaceData itself truly does not matter, especially in relation to the attention it has received in death, gives too much credit to not mattering. What does matter is how the intel community, quasi-private tech firms, the media, and the Democrats worked together to exaggerate the threat and create the narrative outcome of “foreign influence.” Pay attention; this is the magician revealing how the trick is done.
It seems the Russians have gotten so good at influencing cow-like Americans that only five percent of English-language articles on PeaceData actually concerned the U.S. election, out of over 700 articles published. You’d think no one would have even noticed they existed. However, a company called Graphika nonetheless told Facebook to conclude “this facet of the operation suggests an attempt to build a left-wing audience and steer it away from Biden’s campaign.” See, the conclusion from Graphika is by making almost no impact whatsoever, PeaceData was actually “trying harder and harder to hide.” It worked; Graphika found most of the English-language posts achieved only single-digit engagement.
Back to net nanny Graphika for a moment. We don’t know who funds them. Their venture capital was raised privately, in two tranches of about three million dollars each, in 2014 and 2019. We do know who they work with. Their current “Innovation Officer” is Camille François, who once worked for Google’s analytics offshoot Jigsaw before quitting to run a project for the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, alongside now Graphika CEO John Kelly (no relation to the Marine.) Their December 2018 reporting helped Democrats “prove” the Russians used Facebook and Twitter to influence the 2016 election. Graphika also has ties to the Pentagon’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) and the Defense Department’s Minerva Initiative. If you look at their stuff you realize they write like spooks, talk like spooks, and snitch out news sites like spooks.
What is missing from Graphika’s spooky work is any evidence whatsoever of any actual influence on the only thing that matters: how people vote. Graphika offers nothing quantitative, claiming only that by using American freelancers PeaceData was part of the “fabric” of communities and this made them credible. A step up from 2016 efforts, which relied on what Graphika said were foreign “trolls who typically researched American life so they could more effectively pose as U.S. citizens online. One key trick was to watch American TV shows like House of Cards.”
One is inclined to imagine here the customer service rep with a south Indian accent who asks you to call him “Mike” and wonders “How it goes my man in that American town of Iowa?” Older readers, please substitute Boris and Natasha voices.
So who are these nefarious American writers unknowingly selling out their country? The New York Times tracked down one who ended up writing for no money somehow, though PeaceData rates of $75-$200 per article fluttered below average (lots of unknown sites recruit freelancers for small payouts; PeaceData used Guru). This particular PeaceData journalist also once played Rusty in Starlight Express before selling insurance. One of his recent articles outlines his battle with dementia. Sorry to pick on the poor guy, but the NYT profiled him and it seems using such services to influence an election may not be the best use of those rubles.
He did write a nice piece claiming Susan Rice would have made a fine Vice President. One point in her favor was “I challenge anyone to find a video, or statement which shows Susan Rice raising her temper, shouting, acting hysterical or making comments.” Rice of course is known for her signature profanity and temper; here’s The Washington Post calling her out for describing Lindsey Graham as a “piece of sh*t.” Her f-bombs are legendary. She famously flipped the bird at Richard Holbrooke, told France’s UN. ambassador “you’re not going to drag us into your sh*tty war” and drew complaints of disrespect from allies on the UN Security Council.
But before just calling a Susan Rice-like bullsh*t on this whole sad attempt to frighten Americans into believing foreigners are here to steal our precious bodily Internet fluids, let’s go have a look at some of what else PeaceData had to say.
For example, here’s a quote from a PeaceData article about Q-Anon: “The effort to mainstream conspiracy is meant to distract from the true mechanisms of exploitation and alienation, while allowing for the continued consolidation of capital and upending norms with power grabs. As liberal institutions fail and capitalism continues to deliver uncertainty, the extension of a false mythos—that promises to yield revolutionary change and free the masses—gives allure to desperately confused people.”
Ok, that was too easy, somebody just held on to their Socialism 101 textbook. Another PeaceData article, on the post office, is lifted idea-for-idea from the NYT: “One way or another, the truth always comes out and with President Donald Trump, his motives were especially apparent after a news conference in the White House Briefing Room. He admitted on Thursday he opposed additional funding for the United States Postal Service (USPS) in order to make it more difficult to deliver mail-in ballots. Trump’s desire to not expand on voting by mail further sent society into a chaotic state amidst a pandemic.” The NYT said “President Trump stirred new questions on Thursday about whether he would seek to hold up new money to the Postal Service to impede mail-in voting this fall in the middle of the pandemic.” Kinda the same thing, but one is Russkie propaganda and the other is the New York Times.
It is very unclear that any of this is illegal. Foreign organizations hire American writers all the time. And the line between “taking an editorial stance” and “influencing an election” lies closer to how paranoid you are than anything in the law. That did not stop the FBI from telling social media to act against PeaceData based on Graphika tattling. The action Facebook (and Twitter, who called PeaceData “Russian state actors”) took against PeaceData was based entirely on so-called violations of Terms of Service. That allows the social media giants to show off how they are doing something to, whatever, save democracy. Facebook was not asked to return $480 in advertising money PeaceData spent.
PeaceData doesn’t matter by itself. The real value in this fluffy jihad against a no-name site is to create a talking point to allow the MSM and Democrats to announce again that Trump is being helped by a foreign power, that our electoral process is corrupt if Trump wins, and to revive whatever distant warm, wet memories the faithful had of Russiagate. A little daydreaming that maybe the old tricks will work this time where they have failed ever before.
For the rest of us, no big deal, just a glimpse behind the scenes of another Deep State information op where under the cover of blaming foreign collusion, corporate America, the intel community, and the media hide their own collusion, here, in the Twilight Zone of democracy.
Peter Van Buren, a 24-year State Department veteran, is the author of We Meant Well: How I Helped Lose the Battle for the Hearts and Minds of the Iraqi People, Hooper’s War: A Novel of WWII Japan, and Ghosts of Tom Joad: A Story of the 99 Percent.


theamericanconservative--2020-09-17--The NFL and Bumper Sticker Totalitarianism

A helmet worn by Ronnie Stanley # 79 of the Baltimore Ravens with the words End Racism sits on the sidelines during the second half of the game against the Cleveland Browns at M & T Bank Stadium on September 13 , 2020 in Baltimore , Maryland .
( Photo by Scott Taetsch/Getty Images ) The first week of the 2020 NFL season is in the books , and to quote the ever-lovable Tony Romo , wooooooow !
How else to describe Tom Brady ’ s first appearance in non-Patriots colors ?
Or New England ’ s mostly seamless debut @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Newton , who showed up to his postgame press conference looking like the Mad Hatter had just returned from Easter brunch ?
Or Lamar Jackson , the new sage of Baltimore , crushing the omni-hapless Cleveland Browns ?
If this sounds like the kind of shouty hype-prose usually reserved for wrestling managers and small-market sportswriters , that ’ s because it is .
But I just don ’ t care .
After a year of plague and unrest , it was good to watch a bunch of giant men in pads run into @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the NFL was also something else this week , something it ’ s now embraced as never before : woke .
Gone was all the hand-wringing and brow-furrowing that followed Colin Kaepernick ’ s decision in 2016 to kneel during the national anthem .
While Kaepernick himself wasn ’ t on the field , the league seems to have internalized his state of protest and then some .
Helmets were scrawled with slogans about racial justice and the names of those killed by police .
“ END RACISM ” was stenciled onto end @ @ @ @ @ @ @ kneel during the anthem ; entire teams refused to leave their locker rooms .
The shift came amid a year that has cast our nation into stark racial relief , as George Floyd was killed and Breonna Taylor was shot to death .
But it also happened for another reason : the NFL can no longer avoid the issue .
Players have been taking a knee for years , activism has been bubbling over , yet the league itself has frantically tried to dodge the controversy , and even occasionally pushed back on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ago , Roger Goodell , the NFL commissioner , said of Kaepernick , “ I don ’ t necessarily agree with what he ’ s doing.
” Now out comes Goodell , looking even more than usual like a protocol droid on the verge of an all-systems malfunction , to personally apologize to Kaepernick , even calling him “ Kap.
” What made the difference was money , the NFL ’ s first concern as well as its second through eighth , and with capital going woke and some star players reportedly pressuring @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that the league would commence a cynical about-face .
So you can understand why the fans might be a tad suspicious , why some of them might even boo a display of racial unity by the players , as they did before the season opener in Kansas City .
The league ’ s opportunism reeks .
Its hypocrisy is offensive to the senses .
No wonder , then , that ratings for the kickoff game were at their lowest in more than a decade , despite featuring the sensational Patrick Mahomes and the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ NFL ’ s shamelessness , there ’ s another reason why people are less enthused about football this year : the fact that the league has been politicized at all .
Research by Harris recently found that fans were tuning out from NBA basketball , and that the most commonly cited reason was that the games had become too political .
It isn ’ t much of a leap to assume that football watchers would feel the same way , weary of more wokeness spilling out of their TVs .
It ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ totalitarian .
That doesn ’ t mean , or at least it shouldn ’ t , that adjunct women ’ s studies professors are about to start nailing telescreens to the walls of our homes .
Rather it means that wokeness as an ideology increasingly makes claims on every aspect of our lives .
That in and of itself isn ’ t necessarily terrifying—the Catholic Church might be said to do the same thing .
But whereas Catholicism is centered on a catechism that promulgates diverse truths about diverse subjects , wokeness takes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it be exalted everywhere .
It ’ s a kind of bumper sticker totalitarianism , premised on simple slogans and thus easier to promote than , say , a thick and multifarious set of beliefs .
Even more appealing is that woke bumper sticker totalitarianism is vicarious .
You don ’ t actually have to do anything , save for maybe flash a couple words on the Jumbotron and donate a picayune sliver of your immense profits to charity .
That ’ s what ’ s been most jarring about this NFL season @ @ @ @ @ @ @ football needs to bleed from its heart , nothing big has really changed .
The games are still the same minus the crowd noise ; the commercials stretch on and on .
The only palpable difference is those omnipresent slogans , which are meant to be vicarious without ever spoiling football ’ s overall effect .
You read them and you feel good because they signify that someone somewhere is doing good ; you participate in social awareness from the comfort of your couch .
And then you scream at your TV .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ that was pass interference .
That ’ s the theory anyway .
The problem is that it misses an essential truth about football : the fans don ’ t want lectures on politics , no matter how brief and facile .
They tune in because the workweek is long , they spent most of the morning raking leaves , and now they want to sit , switch on their lizard brains , and cheer on their teams .
Aha , say the woke , but that ’ s an incomplete picture .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t they want everyone to stand during the national anthem ?
Don ’ t they enjoy those military flyovers before the games ?
As it happens , I think the league has become too militarized , but the important point here is that the fans don ’ t see it that way and never have .
They don ’ t view flag and uniform as inherently political , but rather as civic symbols that are supposed to unite us all , regardless of party .
Kneeling during the anthem , then , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ challenge so much as a desecration and an infringement , politics intruding where it doesn ’ t belong .
It shouldn ’ t surprise us that the NFL ’ s players , 70 percent of whom are black , are concerned about social justice .
Certainly they deserve credit when they work for real community change—and also when they embarrass the league ’ s avaricious front office .
Yet the fans have a point too .
It ’ s time we accepted that having certain rituals that are politics-free , a little cordoned-off @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t intrude , is a good unto itself and ought to be protected .
Instead we ’ re going in the opposite direction .
C.S .
Lewis once said , “ A sick society must think much about politics , as a sick man must think much about digestion…we think of such things only in order to be able to think of something else.
” Today , not only can we not think of something else , we don ’ t seem to want to .
The woke are everywhere , on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ school board meetings , supposedly neutral news coverage , literature , art .
Now they ’ re out there scrimmaging on the gridiron .

The first week of the 2020 NFL season is in the books, and to quote the ever-lovable Tony Romo, wooooooow! How else to describe Tom Brady’s first appearance in non-Patriots colors? Or New England’s mostly seamless debut of Brady’s replacement, Cam Newton, who showed up to his postgame press conference looking like the Mad Hatter had just returned from Easter brunch? Or Lamar Jackson, the new sage of Baltimore, crushing the omni-hapless Cleveland Browns?
If this sounds like the kind of shouty hype-prose usually reserved for wrestling managers and small-market sportswriters, that’s because it is. But I just don’t care. After a year of plague and unrest, it was good to watch a bunch of giant men in pads run into each other for a while.
Yet the NFL was also something else this week, something it’s now embraced as never before: woke. Gone was all the hand-wringing and brow-furrowing that followed Colin Kaepernick’s decision in 2016 to kneel during the national anthem. While Kaepernick himself wasn’t on the field, the league seems to have internalized his state of protest and then some. Helmets were scrawled with slogans about racial justice and the names of those killed by police. “END RACISM” was stenciled onto end zones. Players didn’t just kneel during the anthem; entire teams refused to leave their locker rooms.
The shift came amid a year that has cast our nation into stark racial relief, as George Floyd was killed and Breonna Taylor was shot to death. But it also happened for another reason: the NFL can no longer avoid the issue. Players have been taking a knee for years, activism has been bubbling over, yet the league itself has frantically tried to dodge the controversy, and even occasionally pushed back on it. Recall that just four years ago, Roger Goodell, the NFL commissioner, said of Kaepernick, “I don’t necessarily agree with what he’s doing.” Now out comes Goodell, looking even more than usual like a protocol droid on the verge of an all-systems malfunction, to personally apologize to Kaepernick, even calling him “Kap.” What made the difference was money, the NFL’s first concern as well as its second through eighth, and with capital going woke and some star players reportedly pressuring the front office, it became inevitable that the league would commence a cynical about-face.
So you can understand why the fans might be a tad suspicious, why some of them might even boo a display of racial unity by the players, as they did before the season opener in Kansas City. The league’s opportunism reeks. Its hypocrisy is offensive to the senses. No wonder, then, that ratings for the kickoff game were at their lowest in more than a decade, despite featuring the sensational Patrick Mahomes and the near-perfect Chiefs offense. Yet beyond the NFL’s shamelessness, there’s another reason why people are less enthused about football this year: the fact that the league has been politicized at all. Research by Harris recently found that fans were tuning out from NBA basketball, and that the most commonly cited reason was that the games had become too political. It isn’t much of a leap to assume that football watchers would feel the same way, weary of more wokeness spilling out of their TVs.
It’s often been said that wokeness is becoming totalitarian. That doesn’t mean, or at least it shouldn’t, that adjunct women’s studies professors are about to start nailing telescreens to the walls of our homes. Rather it means that wokeness as an ideology increasingly makes claims on every aspect of our lives. That in and of itself isn’t necessarily terrifying—the Catholic Church might be said to do the same thing. But whereas Catholicism is centered on a catechism that promulgates diverse truths about diverse subjects, wokeness takes a single truth—bigotry is evil—and insists that it be exalted everywhere. It’s a kind of bumper sticker totalitarianism, premised on simple slogans and thus easier to promote than, say, a thick and multifarious set of beliefs.
Even more appealing is that woke bumper sticker totalitarianism is vicarious. You don’t actually have to do anything, save for maybe flash a couple words on the Jumbotron and donate a picayune sliver of your immense profits to charity. That’s what’s been most jarring about this NFL season: for all the talk about how football needs to bleed from its heart, nothing big has really changed. The games are still the same minus the crowd noise; the commercials stretch on and on. The only palpable difference is those omnipresent slogans, which are meant to be vicarious without ever spoiling football’s overall effect. You read them and you feel good because they signify that someone somewhere is doing good; you participate in social awareness from the comfort of your couch. And then you scream at your TV. The refs must be blind to think that was pass interference.
That’s the theory anyway. The problem is that it misses an essential truth about football: the fans don’t want lectures on politics, no matter how brief and facile. They tune in because the workweek is long, they spent most of the morning raking leaves, and now they want to sit, switch on their lizard brains, and cheer on their teams. Aha, say the woke, but that’s an incomplete picture. The fans themselves are also political. Don’t they want everyone to stand during the national anthem? Don’t they enjoy those military flyovers before the games? As it happens, I think the league has become too militarized, but the important point here is that the fans don’t see it that way and never have. They don’t view flag and uniform as inherently political, but rather as civic symbols that are supposed to unite us all, regardless of party. Kneeling during the anthem, then, isn’t a counterpoint or a challenge so much as a desecration and an infringement, politics intruding where it doesn’t belong.
It shouldn’t surprise us that the NFL’s players, 70 percent of whom are black, are concerned about social justice. Certainly they deserve credit when they work for real community change—and also when they embarrass the league’s avaricious front office. Yet the fans have a point too. It’s time we accepted that having certain rituals that are politics-free, a little cordoned-off demilitarized zone where the culture war can’t intrude, is a good unto itself and ought to be protected. Instead we’re going in the opposite direction. C.S. Lewis once said, “A sick society must think much about politics, as a sick man must think much about digestion…we think of such things only in order to be able to think of something else.” Today, not only can we not think of something else, we don’t seem to want to. The woke are everywhere, on T-shirts, window signs, commercials, school board meetings, supposedly neutral news coverage, literature, art. Now they’re out there scrimmaging on the gridiron.


theamericanconservative--2020-09-16--Is America Still a Nation?

Is America Still a Nation?

Who Rules ?
Sovereignty , Nationalism and the Fate of Freedom in the Twenty-First Century , edited by Roger Kimball ( Encounter Books , 2020 ) , 128 pages ; $ 22.50 .
America ’ s ongoing woke revolution , as many have said , borrows the centrifugal forces of 1790s French Jacobinism , so there ’ s perhaps never been a worse time for conservatives to quote the Déclaration des Droits de l ’ Homme et du Citoyen of 1789 .
And yet one nugget of wisdom in it could well become a guiding principle for an American right @ @ @ @ @ @ @ any sovereignty resides essentially in the Nation , ” reads article 3 .
“ No body , no individual may exercise any authority which does not proceed directly from it.
” Conservatives are by now well aware of the two-fold challenge—domestic and external—to American self-government , the principle therein stated that power is to be wielded by the people ’ s own representatives alone , or by a judicial branch tasked with independently interpreting the laws they pass .
At home , opposition to unelected rulemakers to whom no power has been ( @ @ @ @ @ @ @ activist judges who side with them when challenged in court has been a conservative drumbeat as long as progressives have been around to make use of them .
Externally , a similarly unaccountable set of transnational institutions vying to supersede national sovereignty in the name of global governance has only more recently earned the right ’ s distrust , although Trump ’ s anti-globalist zeal on this score may never leave the GOP once he exits the scene .
But beyond globalism and the administrative state lies a deeper challenge to American sovereignty @ @ @ @ @ @ @ face head-on ahead of November .
Self-government is about a rapport between two groups—lawmakers and the people .
Keeping the former directly elected and accountable to the latter is only one side of the democratic coin , the how of democracy .
Who makes up the people—on whose behalf said elected representatives are meant to make law—is the inescapable other half of the same issue .
And just as power transferred to unelected bureaucrats at home and abroad threatens the democratic contract from above , the ongoing fracturing of the American body politic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from below too , although in ways perhaps less fully understood at the moment .
The demos , or we the people—how as Americans “ we define the first-person plural , ” in Roger Kimball ’ s words—requires neat delineation and a sense of shared destiny for a kratos to viably emerge from it .
Conservatives have woken up to the weakening of the latter .
But as the left keeps waging its war on the body politic through racial identitarianism and general America-bashing , will conservatives find the pluck to warn about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sounding alarmist ?
To be sure , the “ American nation ” never had a fully settled meaning in the first place , at least not among the right—and likely won ’ t for a while longer .
Conservatives will continue sorting themselves , for the foreseeable future , among believers in America as a “ credal nation ” and those who prefer to it a more culturally substantive expression—prizing instead , though not necessarily to the exclusion of the Founders ’ creed , the nationally unifying factors of language , history , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the credal and cultural outlooks , it turns out , are coming simultaneously under assault , so prizing one over the other offers little relief .
The former—the distinctively American principles of natural rights and limited government—were first decried as a constitutional roadblock to Teddy Roosevelt ’ s turn-of-century progressive agenda , but today they ’ ve earned the open scorn of the wider left , which in the wake of The New York Times ’ 1619 Project is coming around to viewing them as a fig leaf for the perpetuation of slavery @ @ @ @ @ @ @ latter , cultural idea of the nation—always vulnerable to criticism for its ethnonational connotations—is coming under strain too by the corrosive effect of identitarian politics , the growing conflation of residency with citizenship in a number of liberal states and cities , and the combination of high levels of immigration in tandem with a culture at home that prizes multiculturalism at the expense of assimilation .
If conservatives hope to regain some of the lost ground in the culture , seeing eye-to-eye on what nationhood is to mean will be crucial .
Extolling @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the less well understood track of the multi-faceted realignment on the right , perhaps because it operates at a deeper , less conscious level , while supplying much of the impetus for the other major two tracks—economics and foreign policy .
Underpinning the productive populism of Oren Cass and his agenda for re-shoring American jobs is a distinct nationalist disposition on economic policy , one that places the wellbeing of Americans non-negotiably over and above progressive bromides such as free-trade and even economic efficiency .
Similarly , Trump ’ s Jacksonian foreign policy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ neocon obsession with regime change and democracy promotion across the furthest reaches of the globe at the expense of domestic priorities .
Both of these realignments can be conceivably traced back to a re-emphasizing of the American nation as the ultimate locus that public policy is to serve .
As with these other two reshuffling trends , conservatives ’ realignment around nationalism is merely in its “ opening sallies , ” in the words of The New Criterion ’ s Roger Kimball , one of its closest watchers .
Across each of these @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to some extent his economic and foreign policy victories since—were a necessary shock to the GOP establishment , but as with any realignment that is to stick , the torch has to be picked up in the realm of ideas- , particularly if he isn ’ t re-elected and conservatives are left grappling with his legacy in his absence .
This is precisely what Kimball ’ s Encounter Books sets out to do in Who Rules ?
Sovereignty , Nationalism and the Fate of Freedom in the Twenty-First Century , collaboratively produced with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Chris Buskirk ’ s Center for American Greatness , which publishes the namesake magazine .
The compendium of essays grew out of a conference the two groups held in Washington a year ago and will be published at the end of October .
On the issue of American nationhood , the book ’ s essayists take unequivocally the cultural-nationalist view , most recently popularized by Rich Lowry in The Case for Nationalism ( 2019 ) .
It turns out that a similar weariness vis-à-vis reducing American identity to its liberal-credal expression had long @ @ @ @ @ @ @ predecessor as editor of National Review , John O ’ Sullivan , in the magazine ’ s special issue of February 1994 on Demystifying Multiculturalism .
Quite curiously for a Brit—or perhaps being all too aware of the failures of multiculturalism in his native United Kingdom—O ’ Sullivan , who calls himself a “ nationalist for America , ” warns that reducing American identity to credal adherence to liberty opens the floodgates to multiculturalism and its atomizing effect on the body politic .
“ The credal nation , ” O ’ Sullivan writes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ over time a multicultural patchwork quilt.
” But the argument in fact far predates O ’ Sullivan himself—James Piereson ’ s essay in this new book provides the historical background to America ’ s emergence in the latter half of the 19th century and the 20th as a culturally distinct and unified nation , which is necessary context to grasp the ways in which that same national compact is unraveling in the 21st .
“ A nation is a creation of time and events , ” Piereson writes , “ and can not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” which at least partly explains the wisdom of the Founders when they refrained from affirming the largely Protestant , English-descending cultural mainstream that prevailed in their midst .
Piereson credits Lincoln—more popularly celebrated for saving the union by reasserting the principles of the Founding against the seceded Confederacy—with opening a period of cultural nation-forming that would see the American people gradually cohere around a culturally substantive expression of nationhood all the way until 1945 .
At just the time of the Civil War , Lincoln in fact began replacing in his speeches @ @ @ @ @ @ @ states with little in the way of a national bloodstream—with the term nation .
Just what exactly drove this period of nation-forming is perhaps more open to dispute .
Piereson ’ s emphasis on wars points to their undoubtable memory-shaping effect through the shared pain of loss and the common thrill of victory .
This was certainly the case in America ’ s victory over inter-European aggression , fascism and communism through two World Wars , to the extent they were experienced as truly national endeavors both in the war front and back @ @ @ @ @ @ @ common attributes—from language to collective worship to mass culture a national character of grit and self-reliance—have also played an indisputable role in cementing American national identity .
Be that as it may , the notion of a culturally unified American public was never much in question , until the undermining of that national cohesiveness by a series of policies and dogmas unleashed from today ’ s left made fretting about the demise of the American nation sound no longer wackily alarmist .
This is precisely the alarm Kimball ’ s book sounds , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ takedown of identity politics and the contradictions at its core .
Once the logic of atoning for past racial inequities through affirmative action outgrew itself into a constant quest for repentance , white guilt and greater diversity per se—which in many practical instances has meant discriminating against those born into the wrong race—a Rubicon was crossed in the left ’ s social agenda that makes any talk of American unity coming out of its ranks sound hollower by the day .
In his essay on “ pre and post-citizens , ” California resident @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of mere residency with American citizenship in Democrat-run cities and states , which is another stealthy way of undermining the American demos that necessarily forms the basis for self-government .
Driving licenses for illegal aliens may seem innocuous , but the prospect of a sizable chunk of the undocumented population getting to decide on the presidency on par with American citizens when they get ballots wrongly sent to them is a different matter .
It ’ s also one that Trump is right to raise the alarm about ahead of November , if @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at the expense of race-blind Americanism , by over-stretching the privilege of citizenship and by ceding power to the administrative state and to global institutions , the Democrats have become the party of a post-national , post-democratic America .
Hidden in the book ’ s argument is counsel for Trump to adopt one narrative ahead of November—Democrats want to end the American nation and its sovereignty as we know it .
It sure doesn ’ t mean that a vote for Trump will magically reunite an increasingly tribalized and racialized nation , but @ @ @ @ @ @ @ towards these gloomy scenarios .
In Piereson ’ s brilliant summation of all these problems , America is “ evolving into a multi-national , multi-cultural , multilingual state lacking the cultural underpinnings of a common culture , language , religion or nationality that we commonly associate with the nation-state.
” Have conservatives realized that November is about stopping that ?

Who Rules? Sovereignty, Nationalism and the Fate of Freedom in the Twenty-First Century, edited by Roger Kimball (Encounter Books, 2020), 128 pages; $22.50.
America’s ongoing woke revolution, as many have said, borrows the centrifugal forces of 1790s French Jacobinism, so there’s perhaps never been a worse time for conservatives to quote the Déclaration des Droits de l’Homme et du Citoyen of 1789. And yet one nugget of wisdom in it could well become a guiding principle for an American right in flux. “The principle of any sovereignty resides essentially in the Nation,” reads article 3. “No body, no individual may exercise any authority which does not proceed directly from it.”
Conservatives are by now well aware of the two-fold challenge—domestic and external—to American self-government, the principle therein stated that power is to be wielded by the people’s own representatives alone, or by a judicial branch tasked with independently interpreting the laws they pass. At home, opposition to unelected rulemakers to whom no power has been (constitutionally) delegated by Congress and the activist judges who side with them when challenged in court has been a conservative drumbeat as long as progressives have been around to make use of them. Externally, a similarly unaccountable set of transnational institutions vying to supersede national sovereignty in the name of global governance has only more recently earned the right’s distrust, although Trump’s anti-globalist zeal on this score may never leave the GOP once he exits the scene.
But beyond globalism and the administrative state lies a deeper challenge to American sovereignty that they’d be wise to face head-on ahead of November. Self-government is about a rapport between two groups—lawmakers and the people. Keeping the former directly elected and accountable to the latter is only one side of the democratic coin, the how of democracy. Who makes up the people—on whose behalf said elected representatives are meant to make law—is the inescapable other half of the same issue. And just as power transferred to unelected bureaucrats at home and abroad threatens the democratic contract from above, the ongoing fracturing of the American body politic along identitarian lines complicates the democratic experiment from below too, although in ways perhaps less fully understood at the moment.
The demos, or we the people—how as Americans “we define the first-person plural,” in Roger Kimball’s words—requires neat delineation and a sense of shared destiny for a kratos to viably emerge from it. Conservatives have woken up to the weakening of the latter. But as the left keeps waging its war on the body politic through racial identitarianism and general America-bashing, will conservatives find the pluck to warn about the demise of the American nation without sounding alarmist?
To be sure, the “American nation” never had a fully settled meaning in the first place, at least not among the right—and likely won’t for a while longer. Conservatives will continue sorting themselves, for the foreseeable future, among believers in America as a “credal nation” and those who prefer to it a more culturally substantive expression—prizing instead, though not necessarily to the exclusion of the Founders’ creed, the nationally unifying factors of language, history, culture, and even religion.
Both the credal and cultural outlooks, it turns out, are coming simultaneously under assault, so prizing one over the other offers little relief. The former—the distinctively American principles of natural rights and limited government—were first decried as a constitutional roadblock to Teddy Roosevelt’s turn-of-century progressive agenda, but today they’ve earned the open scorn of the wider left, which in the wake of The New York Times’ 1619 Project is coming around to viewing them as a fig leaf for the perpetuation of slavery, Jim Crow and segregation. The latter, cultural idea of the nation—always vulnerable to criticism for its ethnonational connotations—is coming under strain too by the corrosive effect of identitarian politics, the growing conflation of residency with citizenship in a number of liberal states and cities, and the combination of high levels of immigration in tandem with a culture at home that prizes multiculturalism at the expense of assimilation.
If conservatives hope to regain some of the lost ground in the culture, seeing eye-to-eye on what nationhood is to mean will be crucial. Extolling Americans’ shared national identity is perhaps the less well understood track of the multi-faceted realignment on the right, perhaps because it operates at a deeper, less conscious level, while supplying much of the impetus for the other major two tracks—economics and foreign policy. Underpinning the productive populism of Oren Cass and his agenda for re-shoring American jobs is a distinct nationalist disposition on economic policy, one that places the wellbeing of Americans non-negotiably over and above progressive bromides such as free-trade and even economic efficiency. Similarly, Trump’s Jacksonian foreign policy taps into an abiding resentment at the neocon obsession with regime change and democracy promotion across the furthest reaches of the globe at the expense of domestic priorities. Both of these realignments can be conceivably traced back to a re-emphasizing of the American nation as the ultimate locus that public policy is to serve.
As with these other two reshuffling trends, conservatives’ realignment around nationalism is merely in its “opening sallies,” in the words of The New Criterion’s Roger Kimball, one of its closest watchers. Across each of these three cases, Trump’s election—and to some extent his economic and foreign policy victories since—were a necessary shock to the GOP establishment, but as with any realignment that is to stick, the torch has to be picked up in the realm of ideas-, particularly if he isn’t re-elected and conservatives are left grappling with his legacy in his absence. This is precisely what Kimball’s Encounter Books sets out to do in Who Rules? Sovereignty, Nationalism and the Fate of Freedom in the Twenty-First Century, collaboratively produced with another nucleus of conservative intellectual innovation, Chris Buskirk’s Center for American Greatness, which publishes the namesake magazine. The compendium of essays grew out of a conference the two groups held in Washington a year ago and will be published at the end of October.
On the issue of American nationhood, the book’s essayists take unequivocally the cultural-nationalist view, most recently popularized by Rich Lowry in The Case for Nationalism (2019). It turns out that a similar weariness vis-à-vis reducing American identity to its liberal-credal expression had long ago been expressed by Lowry’s predecessor as editor of National Review, John O’Sullivan, in the magazine’s special issue of February 1994 on Demystifying Multiculturalism. Quite curiously for a Brit—or perhaps being all too aware of the failures of multiculturalism in his native United Kingdom—O’Sullivan, who calls himself a “nationalist for America,” warns that reducing American identity to credal adherence to liberty opens the floodgates to multiculturalism and its atomizing effect on the body politic. “The credal nation,” O’Sullivan writes presciently in his essay, “becomes over time a multicultural patchwork quilt.”
But the argument in fact far predates O’Sullivan himself—James Piereson’s essay in this new book provides the historical background to America’s emergence in the latter half of the 19th century and the 20th as a culturally distinct and unified nation, which is necessary context to grasp the ways in which that same national compact is unraveling in the 21st. “A nation is a creation of time and events,” Piereson writes, “and cannot be ordered in place at once,” which at least partly explains the wisdom of the Founders when they refrained from affirming the largely Protestant, English-descending cultural mainstream that prevailed in their midst. Piereson credits Lincoln—more popularly celebrated for saving the union by reasserting the principles of the Founding against the seceded Confederacy—with opening a period of cultural nation-forming that would see the American people gradually cohere around a culturally substantive expression of nationhood all the way until 1945. At just the time of the Civil War, Lincoln in fact began replacing in his speeches the term union—connoting a loose association of states with little in the way of a national bloodstream—with the term nation.
Just what exactly drove this period of nation-forming is perhaps more open to dispute. Piereson’s emphasis on wars points to their undoubtable memory-shaping effect through the shared pain of loss and the common thrill of victory. This was certainly the case in America’s victory over inter-European aggression, fascism and communism through two World Wars, to the extent they were experienced as truly national endeavors both in the war front and back home. But a range of other common attributes—from language to collective worship to mass culture a national character of grit and self-reliance—have also played an indisputable role in cementing American national identity. Be that as it may, the notion of a culturally unified American public was never much in question, until the undermining of that national cohesiveness by a series of policies and dogmas unleashed from today’s left made fretting about the demise of the American nation sound no longer wackily alarmist.
This is precisely the alarm Kimball’s book sounds, beginning with David Azerrad’s masterful takedown of identity politics and the contradictions at its core. Once the logic of atoning for past racial inequities through affirmative action outgrew itself into a constant quest for repentance, white guilt and greater diversity per se—which in many practical instances has meant discriminating against those born into the wrong race—a Rubicon was crossed in the left’s social agenda that makes any talk of American unity coming out of its ranks sound hollower by the day.
In his essay on “pre and post-citizens,” California resident Victor Davis Hanson describes the growing conflation of mere residency with American citizenship in Democrat-run cities and states, which is another stealthy way of undermining the American demos that necessarily forms the basis for self-government. Driving licenses for illegal aliens may seem innocuous, but the prospect of a sizable chunk of the undocumented population getting to decide on the presidency on par with American citizens when they get ballots wrongly sent to them is a different matter.
It’s also one that Trump is right to raise the alarm about ahead of November, if only symbolically. By celebrating racial differences at the expense of race-blind Americanism, by over-stretching the privilege of citizenship and by ceding power to the administrative state and to global institutions, the Democrats have become the party of a post-national, post-democratic America. Hidden in the book’s argument is counsel for Trump to adopt one narrative ahead of November—Democrats want to end the American nation and its sovereignty as we know it. It sure doesn’t mean that a vote for Trump will magically reunite an increasingly tribalized and racialized nation, but it does mean resisting our present trend towards these gloomy scenarios. In Piereson’s brilliant summation of all these problems, America is “evolving into a multi-national, multi-cultural, multilingual state lacking the cultural underpinnings of a common culture, language, religion or nationality that we commonly associate with the nation-state.” Have conservatives realized that November is about stopping that?
Jorge González-Gallarza Hernández (@JorgeGGallarza) is a senior researcher at Fundación Civismo.


theamericanconservative--2020-09-18--The Same Old Bold New Vision

The Same Old Bold New Vision

What if the Lincoln Project were run by undergrads ?
Now there ’ s a question nobody wants answered .
But it ’ s a question that 2020 , in its infinite unmercy , insists on bringing before us .
gen z gop—whose most compelling appeal to its young target audience is apparently a refusal to capitalize—is the latest in a long , sad string of youth-oriented conservative groups that are actually oriented towards the old .
That ’ s not to say that these are highly traditional groups , with a deep allegiance to what Kirk—Russell not Charlie—called the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rather , committed to certainties set down a generation or two ago : the vicious hawkishness of the mainstream GOP , the soulless capitalism of the transpartisan elite , the fierce aversion to anything resembling a public moral good .
All these things and more are presented nearly free of the sugarcoating and equivocation with which the Boomers managed to furnish them .
We are seeing , in real time , a new generation playing out the predictions of the last century ’ s prophets that our devil ’ s bargain with liberalism @ @ @ @ @ @ @ In the late stage of the foretold devolving process—as the libertarian impulse overtakes the conservative one—a facade of conservatism remains , but the well it draws from is a shallow one .
The things it seeks to conserve are all things born , more or less , in living memory : just old enough to not be new , not quite old enough to have stood the test of time .
It is the kind of conservatism that harkens back sadly to “ the good old days ” —a genuine nostalgia for its @ @ @ @ @ @ @ role-playing for their adolescent imitators—while unmaking the world of memory at every available turn .
Its Golden Age can be located in either 2004 or 1984 , and the farthest reaches of its pseudohistorical ken turn murky around 1660 .
Its founding myth is baffling .
John Olds , the new group ’ s political director , provides a brief overview of the supposed history of conservatism on an early episode of gen z gop ’ s flagship podcast .
His opening is one for the books : “ So we should start @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Locke.
” What exactly is conservative about the eminently liberal Locke is never explained , but he conceived a theory of rights which exercised a bit of influence on the American founders .
( He is also taken , without evidence , to be the founder of empiricism . )
This is the beginning of conservatism : a liberal , Enlightened conception of the individual circa 1660 .
“ To understand Locke , ” says Olds , “ is to understand America.
” Of course , this libertarian streak must be tempered by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Burke , a liberal less radical than Locke , provides in the minds of gen z gop ’ s theoreticians a counterweight to Locke ’ s revolutionary potential .
The liberation offered by Locke ’ s fantasies , plus Burke ’ s disapproval of beheadings and whatnot , equals a kind of conservatism that needs to conserve nothing other than our commitment to not beheading people .
This reading of history , which sprang into being amid a postwar panic to affirm our liberal devotions , is all too familiar .
But @ @ @ @ @ @ @ How do Burke and Locke bring us to where we are today ?
” ( The answer , of course , would be entirely unpleasant to our friends at gen z gop . )
After a brief detour to Piety Hill and the obligatory nod to Goldwater— “ the first high-profile , modern conservative in the Senate , ” Olds claims as Robert Taft rolls in his grave—gen z gop ’ s resident historian arrives at Ronald Reagan .
In Reagan , all the wildest dreams of Locke , Burke , Kirk , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ administration is , to Olds , the beginning of conservatism in practice—and in many ways its peak .
A renaissance follows a few years later when George W. Bush adds a humane touch to Reagan ’ s original conservatism , and undertakes the noble task of spreading it to foreign shores .
All through the decades-long history of the Great Tradition , our liberal-conservative values are upheld by heroes committed to freedom and principles , only to be smashed by the Orange Man on his entry into the Oval Office .
Throughout the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ displays historical illiteracy of the most outrageous kind .
But he can not be blamed for this .
It ’ s not as if he conjured the myth out of thin air : this is the philosophical history that has been taught in schools and touted by the right-leaning intelligentsia for decades .
It ’ s a myth that upholds the GOP ’ s status quo : functional public liberalism , with occasional gestures at a private conservative disposition .
The focal points of the group ’ s nostalgia are telling , even @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Stevens , a member of gen z gop with a focus on foreign policy , is itching for the halcyon days of 2008 : Another group member laments , “ The Republican Party that I grew up following is a party no more.
” Given the age-orientation of the organization , this is a eulogy for the GOP of the noughts—not exactly conservatism ’ s shining moment .
In fact , it was kind of the low point .
Social conservatism had been hollowed out , and after three decades theoretically fighting , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up quickly , if quietly .
Though not yet applied , “ Zombie ” had become an appropriate and necessary prefix to “ Reaganism , ” and a devastating recession was in the offing—on top of a good bit of destruction already visited on the American middle class .
But , hey , the GOP held the White House and a majority in Congress for most of the decade .
What ’ s more , they used that power to wage massive imperial wars in a reckless and fruitless attempt to deliver our @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s what we call winning .
This nostalgia for the nadir of conservative history—when the gen z gop ’ ers ( and I ) were all in elementary school—is shared by the NeverTrumpers and neocons whose figurehead , then as now , is Bill Kristol .
On a personal level , Kristol ’ s nostalgia is understandable : the ideas he had championed for years came to dominate this country ( and a few others ) for a brief , shining moment .
It was , for the neoconservatives and many of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ decades-long fight for control of the public arena .
This dream , and any potential of returning to it , was ripped away from them when Trump took control of the party .
gen z gop is the flip side of that coin : their first experience of politics was the neocons at the top of their game , and they weren ’ t yet old enough , on that first experience , to grasp the dark underbelly of the neocon machine .
In short : they see 2004 Bill Kristol the way @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it can ’ t be overstated just how much this hinges on appearance .
Mike Brodo , gen z gop ’ s executive director , explains his repudiation of Trump ’ s GOP : “ I oppose some of the policies of this administration for what they are , but what really matters more is how they go about implementing them.
” Never mind the outcomes of Trump ’ s policy ; he didn ’ t go about it very nicely .
We need wide smiles and soft words—the kind we used to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and George W. Bush .
That word—principled—bears the same magic power for gen z gop as it does for their aging counterparts .
On the podcast , Brodo puts his theory of politics into words , kind of .
The three tenets of gen z conservatism : principles , policy , opportunity .
We are treated to a rambling explanation of how opportunity is achieved by means of policy that is informed by principle that leads to principled policy for opportunity ; the words loop around and swim together in a fog of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s than the listener ’ s .
This is all a grand effort to reintroduce facts and nuance into our political discourse .
We need to do away with black-and-white classifications of such nebulous things as politics and morals .
We ought to dive into the gray area , and stay there .
They ’ re fond of calling their efforts nuance signaling .
“ Nuance is interesting , ” Brodo opines , “ because nuance itself is quite nuanced.
” Hm .
Presumably , one manifestation of this nuance—heretofore absent from American @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at social conservatism .
gen z gop is unabashedly pro-LGBTQ+ , and wants you to know that they know Black Lives Matter .
They ’ re suspiciously reticent about the moral status of abortion , but insistent that the practice is enshrined in our constitution—either in the 1st or the 14th amendment , depending on who you talk to .
These are areas where the youngest generation of liberal conservatives think they are forging a new path .
Brodo , for his part , is convinced that we are crawling toward a brave @ @ @ @ @ @ @ perspectives are new .
I did not arrive at them overnight , and people are not going to understand them overnight.
” ( The kernel of truth here being that nobody will understand them . )
But they are just playing out a predictable game .
Genuine conservatism—which belongs primarily in the social realm—has taken a backseat to economic liberalism and political globalism for as long as any of us can remember .
These very disordered priorities have dissolved many of the preconditions for functional conservatism in the social domain .
As anyone @ @ @ @ @ @ @ people did ) we are left with a generation of right-wingers whose only concept of conservatism is liberalism—if we ’ re lucky , in slow motion .
If they see anything worth conserving , it ’ s a bloated military— “ strong national defense ” —and a palatable tax rate .
On nearly every issue of genuine concern to the right , they simply go with the current .
It is not so much that they stand at the beginning of a new path as the end of an old one .
They @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dead consensus ; they are the culmination of it .
They are the neo-neocons .

What if the Lincoln Project were run by undergrads?
Now there’s a question nobody wants answered. But it’s a question that 2020, in its infinite unmercy, insists on bringing before us. gen z gop—whose most compelling appeal to its young target audience is apparently a refusal to capitalize—is the latest in a long, sad string of youth-oriented conservative groups that are actually oriented towards the old.
That’s not to say that these are highly traditional groups, with a deep allegiance to what Kirk—Russell, not Charlie—called the “permanent things.” They are, rather, committed to certainties set down a generation or two ago: the vicious hawkishness of the mainstream GOP, the soulless capitalism of the transpartisan elite, the fierce aversion to anything resembling a public moral good. All these things and more are presented nearly free of the sugarcoating and equivocation with which the Boomers managed to furnish them. We are seeing, in real time, a new generation playing out the predictions of the last century’s prophets that our devil’s bargain with liberalism would not end in our favor.
In the late stage of the foretold devolving process—as the libertarian impulse overtakes the conservative one—a facade of conservatism remains, but the well it draws from is a shallow one. The things it seeks to conserve are all things born, more or less, in living memory: just old enough to not be new, not quite old enough to have stood the test of time. It is the kind of conservatism that harkens back sadly to “the good old days”—a genuine nostalgia for its older adherents, a bit of aspirant role-playing for their adolescent imitators—while unmaking the world of memory at every available turn. Its Golden Age can be located in either 2004 or 1984, and the farthest reaches of its pseudohistorical ken turn murky around 1660.
Its founding myth is baffling. John Olds, the new group’s political director, provides a brief overview of the supposed history of conservatism on an early episode of gen z gop’s flagship podcast. His opening is one for the books: “So we should start at the beginning here, with John Locke.” What exactly is conservative about the eminently liberal Locke is never explained, but he conceived a theory of rights which exercised a bit of influence on the American founders. (He is also taken, without evidence, to be the founder of empiricism.) This is the beginning of conservatism: a liberal, Enlightened conception of the individual circa 1660. “To understand Locke,” says Olds, “is to understand America.”
Of course, this libertarian streak must be tempered by a traditional one. Enter Edmund Burke. Burke, a liberal less radical than Locke, provides in the minds of gen z gop’s theoreticians a counterweight to Locke’s revolutionary potential. The liberation offered by Locke’s fantasies, plus Burke’s disapproval of beheadings and whatnot, equals a kind of conservatism that needs to conserve nothing other than our commitment to not beheading people. This reading of history, which sprang into being amid a postwar panic to affirm our liberal devotions, is all too familiar.
But Olds asks an important question: “How do Burke and Locke bring us to where we are today?” (The answer, of course, would be entirely unpleasant to our friends at gen z gop.) After a brief detour to Piety Hill and the obligatory nod to Goldwater—“the first high-profile, modern conservative in the Senate,” Olds claims as Robert Taft rolls in his grave—gen z gop’s resident historian arrives at Ronald Reagan.
In Reagan, all the wildest dreams of Locke, Burke, Kirk, and Goldwater coalesce and materialize. His administration is, to Olds, the beginning of conservatism in practice—and in many ways its peak. A renaissance follows a few years later when George W. Bush adds a humane touch to Reagan’s original conservatism, and undertakes the noble task of spreading it to foreign shores. All through the decades-long history of the Great Tradition, our liberal-conservative values are upheld by heroes committed to freedom and principles, only to be smashed by the Orange Man on his entry into the Oval Office.
Throughout the fantastical narrative, the young Mr. Olds displays historical illiteracy of the most outrageous kind. But he cannot be blamed for this. It’s not as if he conjured the myth out of thin air: this is the philosophical history that has been taught in schools and touted by the right-leaning intelligentsia for decades. It’s a myth that upholds the GOP’s status quo: functional public liberalism, with occasional gestures at a private conservative disposition.
The focal points of the group’s nostalgia are telling, even outside of the formal historiography. Ian Stevens, a member of gen z gop with a focus on foreign policy, is itching for the halcyon days of 2008:
Who wishes elections were still like this? pic.twitter.com/YhQjHB13Bw — Ian Stevens (@ianstevensc) September 11, 2020
Another group member laments, “The Republican Party that I grew up following is a party no more.” Given the age-orientation of the organization, this is a eulogy for the GOP of the noughts—not exactly conservatism’s shining moment.
In fact, it was kind of the low point. Social conservatism had been hollowed out, and after three decades theoretically fighting, Roe remained untouchable; Obergefell was creeping up quickly, if quietly. Though not yet applied, “Zombie” had become an appropriate and necessary prefix to “Reaganism,” and a devastating recession was in the offing—on top of a good bit of destruction already visited on the American middle class. But, hey, the GOP held the White House and a majority in Congress for most of the decade. What’s more, they used that power to wage massive imperial wars in a reckless and fruitless attempt to deliver our quasi-Lockeanism to the Middle East. That’s what we call winning.
This nostalgia for the nadir of conservative history—when the gen z gop’ers (and I) were all in elementary school—is shared by the NeverTrumpers and neocons whose figurehead, then as now, is Bill Kristol. On a personal level, Kristol’s nostalgia is understandable: the ideas he had championed for years came to dominate this country (and a few others) for a brief, shining moment. It was, for the neoconservatives and many of the fusionists, the culmination of a decades-long fight for control of the public arena. This dream, and any potential of returning to it, was ripped away from them when Trump took control of the party. gen z gop is the flip side of that coin: their first experience of politics was the neocons at the top of their game, and they weren’t yet old enough, on that first experience, to grasp the dark underbelly of the neocon machine. In short: they see 2004 Bill Kristol the way 2004 Bill Kristol saw himself.
And it can’t be overstated just how much this hinges on appearance. Mike Brodo, gen z gop’s executive director, explains his repudiation of Trump’s GOP: “I oppose some of the policies of this administration for what they are, but what really matters more is how they go about implementing them.” Never mind the outcomes of Trump’s policy; he didn’t go about it very nicely. We need wide smiles and soft words—the kind we used to get from principled conservatives like George Will and George W. Bush.
That word—principled—bears the same magic power for gen z gop as it does for their aging counterparts. On the podcast, Brodo puts his theory of politics into words, kind of. The three tenets of gen z conservatism: principles, policy, opportunity. We are treated to a rambling explanation of how opportunity is achieved by means of policy that is informed by principle that leads to principled policy for opportunity; the words loop around and swim together in a fog of confusion that seems more the speaker’s than the listener’s.
This is all a grand effort to reintroduce facts and nuance into our political discourse. We need to do away with black-and-white classifications of such nebulous things as politics and morals. We ought to dive into the gray area, and stay there. They’re fond of calling their efforts nuance signaling. “Nuance is interesting,” Brodo opines, “because nuance itself is quite nuanced.” Hm.
Presumably, one manifestation of this nuance—heretofore absent from American politics—is the complete abandonment of any pretensions at social conservatism. gen z gop is unabashedly pro-LGBTQ+, and wants you to know that they know Black Lives Matter. They’re suspiciously reticent about the moral status of abortion, but insistent that the practice is enshrined in our constitution—either in the 1st or the 14th amendment, depending on who you talk to.
These are areas where the youngest generation of liberal conservatives think they are forging a new path. Brodo, for his part, is convinced that we are crawling toward a brave new world: “I understand these perspectives are new. I did not arrive at them overnight, and people are not going to understand them overnight.” (The kernel of truth here being that nobody will understand them.)
But they are just playing out a predictable game. Genuine conservatism—which belongs primarily in the social realm—has taken a backseat to economic liberalism and political globalism for as long as any of us can remember. These very disordered priorities have dissolved many of the preconditions for functional conservatism in the social domain. As anyone could have warned us (and many people did) we are left with a generation of right-wingers whose only concept of conservatism is liberalism—if we’re lucky, in slow motion. If they see anything worth conserving, it’s a bloated military—“strong national defense”—and a palatable tax rate. On nearly every issue of genuine concern to the right, they simply go with the current.
It is not so much that they stand at the beginning of a new path as the end of an old one. They are not the the successor to the dead consensus; they are the culmination of it. They are the neo-neocons.
Nihil sub sole novum.