I love The Atlantic. I only started reading it in 2019, so I was perhaps late to the “of no party” party. But I have admired it in the past few years for daring to publish writers who critique the identity politics and thought suppression of the left— chief among them civil libertarian Conor Friedersdorf and Orwell expert George Packer. The variety of essays at The Atlantic has offered a wonderful respite from the increasingly progressive Opinion section at The New York Times, even if The Atlantic does publish heroes of the new equity movement like Ibram X. Kendi. Mr. Friedersdorf’s pieces often elicit considerable pushback, like when he posited the idea of moderate conservatives coalescing around DeSantis, or advocated for university leaders to honor a variety of narratives about Kyle Rittenhouse. The magazine publishes them anyway. George Packer has been unsparing in his assertion that our era’s “willing constriction of intellectual freedom will do lasting damage.” He stated bluntly that “good art doesn’t come from wokeness, and social problems starved of debate can’t find real solutions.” Ideas like these are why I have read The Atlantic with a frequent sense of relief and appreciation, and been glad that even in establishment media, conformity is being opposed.
That is why I was a bit surprised in recent weeks to read four pieces on the site which all have a similar flavor. The first was “The Terrifying Future of the American Right,” by David Brooks; the second was “The New Right’s Strange and Dangerous Cult of Toughness” by David French. Both pieces attempt to elucidate the new direction the GOP is taking— one that full-heartedly embraces social conservatism, and veers away from the kind of free-market fundamentalism that characterized the Reagan era. The third essay that absorbed my attention, also by David Brooks, laments that the political philosophy he fell in love with has morphed and taken on an unrecognizable form at Fox News. And the fourth, a sensitively written piece by Elizabeth Bruenig, analyzes how pride in guns has shifted from respect for their inherent risks to online displays that have caused outrage.
All of these pieces take issue with the general trajectory of what could be called the populist right. They raise the alarm about what is happening among conservatives: a completely new constellation of priorities that seeks to answer the cultural and economic problems of the current era. The new right populism is too garish; too macho. It is meant to shock. It is bellicose. It is no longer about beautiful ideas, but entrenched moral battles. Without depending on his presence, it is nevertheless distastefully Trumpian.
These critiques, coming from esteemed and thoughtful writers, deserve considered rebuttals. Why is there no staff writer at The Atlantic from this right-of-center faction? If the magazine is truly of no party or clique, don’t we as readers of good faith deserve to hear from from this particular neck of the woods? Why are there so few Trump voters represented at major publications? Half the country voted for Trump. Do we really need to deny that these people are our fellow Americans?
There is more than a smidgeon of classism lurking behind the editorial refusal to consider their perspective. It is relegated to the bargain bin of deplorability; the people that represent this movement must start their own publications, think tanks, and op-ed pages. Which is not a tragedy. But why are their stances and needs considered so unseemly? After all, when masculinity is endlessly derided and denigrated by the cultural powers that be, isn’t a backlash and reclamation of traditional manhood expected? When people that work all day can’t put food on the table, doesn’t a new economic approach seem advisable? When sex is so available as to be meaningless, and conception thought to be nothing more than a collection of cells, is it really so outlandish that some among us would cleave to a more wholesome and sacred vision of marriage and family? And when the deeply American value of self-defense is constantly called into question, should we be surprised when gun owners gleefully make displays of their weapons in revolt?
I am reminded of Leighton Woodhouse’s excellent piece “Those Other White People.” To not give your opponents a platform is to announce that “they’re the people you want everyone around you to know have nothing to do with you, your values, and your social standing.” But I want to hear from these people. Frankly, I came from these people. I value their thoughts. I want to know their reasoning. I believe that they deserve respect. And I agree with Ross Douthat that the new right in fact presents an “analysis of our situation [that] feels more timely, more of this moment, than many alternative programs on the right or left or center.” There are undeniably brilliant young thinkers in these circles, like Emily Jashinsky and Rachel Bovard. I am fascinated by the proposals of American Compass’ Oren Cass, who makes a compelling case for a “multi-ethnic, working-class conservatism” that is distinctly non-libertarian.
Look, I’m a weirdo, and I want to hear from everyone. I’m not advocating for the inclusion of these ideas into the realm of respectability because I’m of the populist right. I’m just a disillusioned Bernie bitch. I oppose the death penalty and support the decriminalization of sex work. I mean, I would read an essay by the QAnon shaman. If I were the social worker assigned to him in prison, I’d give him materials to make a zine. Tell him to throw some vegan recipes in the back. Such is the life of a free speech quasi-absolutist.
I remember that before I left the city, a gallery moved into the ground floor of my building that displayed art of burning NYPD cars. Being vehemently opposed to the blanket demonization of cops, I used to sweat each time I walked by it. But after a while I came to the understanding that those people have the right to show that art, damnit. It is part of their free expression.
I’ve been in a red county long enough now for some of the beauty to sink in. I have reacquainted myself with the value and meaning of rural America, and also taken note of its sadness and limitations. I go to the same gas station every day, and everyone steps aside for elderly veterans to go first in line. The men in this area, full of chivalry and gruffness and humor, are eager to hold the door for a woman. There’s a live and let live attitude. The churches are full and life is good. Few people wear masks. The magic of America is in its wildness; things are going to change if they need to, including the conservative movement. Let’s not only give voice to those who would seek to rein in this feral resilience. Let’s hear from the people on the ground. This wonderful essay is a start.
Some final thoughts and recommendations:
I simp for C-SPAN. I am a C-STAN. When I go to bed at night, I look forward to waking up with the Washington Journal. And I’ve recently noticed that host Greta Brawner is chic. I’d like to nominate her for underappreciated political style icon of the year. It’s not just her elegant presentation; it’s her implacable demeanor and ever so subtly withering glances. Indulge me.
A lot of people like to proclaim that the real divide in America isn’t between red and blue, it’s between (insert one) libertarianism vs. authoritarianism, elites vs. the populace, neurotic Branch Covidians vs. infantile anti-maskers. But what about the internal battle raging in the hearts of us purple people? Here’s a quote, courtesy of the aforementioned George Packer: “the central drama of politics is the one inside your skull.”
For my fellow Jesus freaks, I’d like to suggest the wonderful Soultime App. You can start each morning with a three-minute daily devotional, as well as receive Bible verses that correspond to your moods. Look for any meditation narrated by Naomi Trenier— she truly has the voice of an angel.
Finally, a recommendation for a favorite movie that has always seemed overlooked. Something New starring Sanaa Lathan is about an interracial romance, and all that it takes to soften our restrictions on who we fall in love with. It’s about letting go of racial prejudices and preferences, and letting life flow. Watch this beautiful scene where Kenya, a Black woman who has fallen for a white man named Brian, cries in the bathroom at an event and is comforted by her father. “Look at us, all of us in this country. Black, white, brown, yellow— we’re all mixed up … nothing pure about us,” he says. “Love is an adventure.” Happy Holidays.