“It wasn’t always like this” – Christopher Lasch on how America went wrong

Many of us in the USA believe that our country has lost much of the strength and virtue which it once had. We see an America that isn’t working the way it should. And we know that corruption, incompetence, and division are on the rise. I was born in 1962. For anyone my age or older, it should be clear that the nation has culturally and socially declined in our lifetimes. The roots of this decline stretch back far into the twentieth century.

In the 1990s, historian and sociologist Christopher Lasch presented a diagnosis of what had gone wrong. While he is right in many of his conclusions, and accurately describes much of what happened, I believe that he misses some of the reasons for America’s decline. But despite any shortcomings, he is well worth reading.

Lasch sadly died too young, in 1994, at the age of sixty-one. In his last book, The Revolt of the Elites and the Betrayal of Democracy, which was published the year after his death, he warned that Americans in higher social positions had developed a contempt for their own nation, and for fellow citizens. These so-called “elites” isolated themselves from the rest of us, praised themselves as more enlightened “Citizens of the World,” and merged into the group that is today called the globalists. They especially despised middle- and working-class Americans.

In his introduction to Revolt of the Elites, Lasch noted several concerns that non-elite Americans had at the time, including the loss of industry and associated jobs, threats to the middle class, rising crime, and declining cities. [1] Sound familiar? It should. And remember, Lasch wrote this in 1994. America still has many good people, but the qualities that made America healthy are still under threat. We, today, could add to Lasch’s list of concerns: uncontrolled immigration, Woke, declining education, family breakdown, social disorder, institutional corruption, an upper class that is hoarding more and more of America’s wealth, and last but not least, a demoralizing war on beauty.

Since Lasch’s day, Americans have also been dissatisfied with the state of politics and government. Neither major American political party has adequately addressed our urgent problems. Lasch ascribes this to the increased isolation of American elites. This isolation has ensured that powerful people don’t suffer from the results of their many failed policies. [2] This has been a relatively recent development in American history. It’s very important for us to understand that, as a group, our elites were not always as unmoored and hostile to the rest of us as they are now. Lasch describes how the wealthy in America once commonly had a strong sense of noblesse oblige—a belief that they were responsible for acting generously, benevolently and honorably towards people in other, less fortunate classes. As a result, “Libraries, museums, parks, orchestras, universities, hospitals, and other civic amenities stood as so many monuments to upper-class munificence.” [3]

Carnegie Library in Xenia, Ohio. Industrialist Andrew Carnegie funded the construction of many public libraries in small and large cities

The new “elites,” for want of a better word, are a very different breed. They partially developed out of a system of “mobility of capital and the emergence of a global market.” This economic system arose in the last quarter of the twentieth century. The new elites also have taken advantage of a recently-developed system of educational credentials, acquired from approved schools such as the Ivy League universities. This credentialism that has become so consequential is associated with so-called Progressive ideology, which gained a foothold in America by the early twentieth century. Among the new elites, noblesse oblige has disappeared. These successors to the Henry Fords of old include business and NGO managers, media figures, government bureaucrats, the education establishment, tech leaders and workers, and others who “produce and manipulate information.” They are not nearly as closely tied to local communities and the nation as a whole as the earlier elites were. They are the “Anywheres” which David Goodhart described, as opposed to the “Somewheres” who are still conservative and rooted in a place. Lasch notes, “It is a question whether they think of themselves as Americans at all. Patriotism, certainly, does not rank very high in their hierarchy of virtues. ‘Multiculturalism,’ on the other hand, suits them to perfection.” [4] This new class has tried to change the meaning of the word “democracy” for its own benefit, and to favour certain social classes which have supposedly been treated unfairly. According to Lasch, for the new elites, democracy means a “therapeutic state” which promotes “self-esteem.” [5]

In Revolt of the Elites, Lasch expressed appreciation for the American Founding Fathers, and the civic and social life of America that flourished well into the nineteenth century. Our Civil War was a terrible rupture, of course. But although antebellum politicians obviously failed to find a peaceful resolution before that war erupted at Fort Sumter, many of them had tried diligently, using political channels that worked well in earlier decades, and would again work well after the war, until the new elites rose to domination.

Lasch carefully studied and understood the earlier, sometimes novel American ideas of democracy. He appreciated how the American republic and its democratic elements, based on the founding documents, rule of law, and separation of powers, provided ways for people of all social classes to thrive and earn respect. Nineteenth century Americans tended to have a very different understanding of American democracy than the ideologues who refer to “our democracy” today. While Federalists and Whigs warned of the dangers of the mob, those who approved of the expansion of democracy stressed the need for a cohesive society with wide, active participation, and warned of the dangers that would arise from a widening gap between the rich and the poor. They emphasized the value of a high proportion of men participating in a trade or owning and managing property, which would foster qualities necessary for a healthy democracy, such as self-reliance and responsibility:

Democracy works best when men and women do things for themselves, with the help of their friends and neighbors, instead of depending on the state. Not that democracy should be equated with rugged individualism. Self-reliance does not mean self-sufficiency. Self-governing communities, not individuals, are the basic units of democratic society. [6]

While individualism was often emphasized in America, it was balanced, from America’s beginnings, by the activities of religious and other voluntary organizations, which provided assistance to those in need, strengthened social bonds, and promoted cultural pursuits. The decline of these organizations is now attested by many empty churches, and countless other empty, crumbling buildings in small towns and cities, which once housed thriving community groups such as the Grange, the Odd Fellows, and the Lyceum.

A former Odd Fellows Hall, in rural Ohio

The role of “experts”

Along with globalized economics, Lasch assigns blame for America’s decline on the rise of “experts,” and an unquestioning trust in “science” to solve all problems. This process accelerated in the late-nineteenth century, as American intellectuals looked to Europe for new ideas. Among the results in government were a professionalized bureaucracy, which continually grew and changed in unforeseen directions, and a growing reliance on educated experts for developing policies. This new system of the American “Progressives” showed its fallibility by the 1930s, with policies that prolonged the Great Depression. “The Best and the Brightest” also showed their short-sightedness in the 1960s, with the development of the welfare state, the direction of the Vietnam War, and other policies which ruined American cities. As we saw later with Covid in 2020, and the “climate change” hysteria of the last few decades, scientists and other experts have continued to be wrong in many cases. True science knows its limits, and always encourages professional argument and rational criticism. In order to offer convincing evidence, it must show that the results of a scientific experiment can be duplicated. This is very different from today’s “scientism” delusion, which is prevalent among many persons who believe that they are well-educated. Another difference from the days before the “Progressive Era” is that, in recent years, many in the expert classes have not been anchored in the Christian, Western morality which served America so well. Traditional Christian, Western morality taught that there are limits to the understanding and capability of science and knowledge. Without this, a blinding arrogance has developed among the new elites. And Lasch emphasized that this arrogance is very different from the pride of earlier aristocrats, which was based on “the inheritance of an ancient lineage and on the obligation to defend its honor.” Knightly ideals and qualities are a thing of the past. [7]

Lasch also criticizes the ideal of a “meritocracy.” He argues that, paradoxically, this tends to encourage an upper class to become more entrenched, rather than providing truly fluid social mobility. This happens by allowing capable persons from lower classes to rise who, in the process, develop allegiance or obligation to the established upper class. And the lower classes lose effective leaders. I’m not sure that I am completely convinced by Lasch’s argument here, but it is food for thought. Lasch does provide plenty of evidence for what Charles Haywood describes, in another review of Revolt of the Elites: “Until quite recently, in fact, the American ideal was not rising up through the class structure, but succeeding within one’s own community and frame.” [8] Lasch also specified that this ideal insisted upon opportunities for full citizenship, and for participating and mixing with others in the broad society. [9]

A Young Carpenter, ca. 1850 (Chrysler Museum of Art)

The republican system which America’s founders and their adherents established provided the means for many humble people to live productive lives. It didn’t necessarily enable everyone to become a tycoon or to get rich quick, but it did offer a share of social respect to any citizen who acted responsibly. Nineteenth-century workers, farmers and craftsmen considered this kind of respect to be their due. They weren’t interested in a social revolution that would overthrow the wealthy. Compared with the rest of the world, a high proportion of working-class and middle-class persons participated in the civil aspects of the American system. Those in other classes also benefited from this system.

Lasch rightly lamented the loss of these civil aspects of America. He claims that the rise of wage labor and large corporations, along with the dwindling of more independent workers, were among the reasons for this change. There was also the growth of the new, more isolated elite classes who lacked solidarity with the less wealthy. Among the Progressives of the early twentieth century, an attitude arose that “most political questions were too complex” for the public. [10] In more recent decades, prominent politicians have denounced the supposedly benighted “deplorables” and “bitter clingers” of the middle and working classes – those who have earned responsibility and respect but are shut out from the workings of the current system, and sometimes even denied full freedoms in a system of anarcho-tyranny.

The decline of journalism and debate

From 1830 to 1900, political participation was much higher in America than today. And there was a thriving press which contributed mightily to public debates, unlike our later mainstream media. Newspapers were “fiercely partisan,” as Lasch described. Many papers tended to advocate for one political party or another. Some refused to be in the thrall of any party. Many cities and towns offered multiple papers which offered views in opposition to each other. Despite the recent development of the so-called “Information Age,” Lasch claims frankly that by the late twentieth century, voters tended to be much less well-informed than before. This was a result of a discouraging of open debate that developed, and a transformation of journalists into a more credentialed “profession.”

Throughout the nineteenth century, Americans eagerly attended political speeches and debates. These occurred frequently throughout the country, and focused on topics of local, state, and national importance. The series of Lincoln-Douglas debates was just one famous example. Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas spoke very frankly compared with today’s politicians, who are surrounded by consultants and PR managers. Those earlier debates often occurred directly between the opposing politicians, without journalists intruding as intermediaries, as we usually see today. Such journalists tend to assert their own agendas into the debate, often disregarding public concerns. [11] Lasch highlighted the necessity of “sustained public debate” as a remedy for the avalanche of “junk mail” media to which we have been subjected since the late twentieth century. [12]

Let’s also remember the whining by American deep-state apologists during the past decade about what they called misinformation and disinformation. Of course false information exists, but this recent effort was a coordinated targeting of information that was truthful and did not fit the narrative of the regime. This effort was completely opposed to what Lasch called “sustained public debate.” It was a contempt for the public, exhibited by Biden administration officials and several members of the media. They actively tried to shut down free discussion online. Both major parties have been guilty of media manipulation, but the aforementioned campaign was an especially aggressive example, using government agencies to impose censorship.

This didn’t only happen in the USA. During Covid-19 in New Zealand, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern insisted that the only true source of information for the public would be the government. “We will continue to be your single source of truth,” she stated. And she emphasized, “Otherwise, dismiss anything else.” This was during a time when, throughout the West, we were repeatedly misled and lied to by government officials and media. During her reign, Ardern and her government inflicted a drastic lockdown on New Zealand, which included human rights violations and significant economic damage. She admitted openly that there would be “two classes of people” in the country, the vaccinated and unvaccinated. We are steadily learning how very harmful the lockdowns and other Covid policies were to our societies. As one alternative media figure put it, this was “weaponized, phony niceness.” It was also totalitarian and rooted in unreality. [13]

This leads me to a positive note. One thing has improved in my lifetime: the opening up of political discussion beyond the limits that were strictly enforced for decades by the mainstream media and their controllers. The Internet has allowed much more free discussion – a very welcome widening of the Overton Window. Elon Musk’s X has played a role in this, along with the ability for anyone – such as your humble author – to post their musings on a variety of Internet platforms. It’s a bit like a return to the wild and woolly days of nineteenth-century newspapers, although not quite. It certainly has allowed for more sources of information. Thoughtful, substantial arguments for a variety of perspectives can be found, when one ignores the vituperation, lies and vast amounts of other noise.

Race relations and cities

Revolt of the Elites offers a good, succinct summary of what went wrong with race relations in the 1960s. Lasch highlights how communities were destroyed by radical civil rights activism and related government actions. Much of this was also caused by social engineering that was pushed by the new elites. Lasch might have retained some naïveté about the civil rights movement, yet he saw through the platitudes of extreme activists who demanded equality at all costs, equality of results, and more. He specifically blames social engineering for

“a rapid deterioration of race relations….busing, affirmative action, and open housing threatened the ethnic solidarity of neighborhoods and drove lower-middle-class whites into opposition. In the face of their resistance, liberals ‘reacted with self-righteous indignation,’ in [Jim] Sleeper’s words.  Black militants encouraged racial polarization and demanded a new politics of ‘collective grievance and entitlement’…Liberals and other leftists also insisted on lowering or removing standards in schools and other institutions, claiming that standards were racist. White leftists praised black culture for having “an expressive, sexually liberated way of life free of bourgeois inhibitions.” [14]

In recent years, Christopher Caldwell has added to Lasch’s analysis by describing the harmful effects of civil rights legislation on our legal system and society in general, including its subversion of our constitution. [15] While the civil rights movement was active, many white Americans understandably wanted fairness for all, but much of what happened with civil rights was something different.

Social engineering had other dire impacts. One of the most striking signs of America’s decline is the current state of its cities, which were profoundly harmed by government policy and the influence of powerful private foundations. As suggested above, this was a set of “misguided policies intended to break up ethnic neighborhoods that allegedly [stood] in the way of racial integration.” Revolt of the Elites doesn’t mention it much, but increasing urban crime also played a large role in forcing whites to migrate to the suburbs. I can remember from my own lifetime when our cities were safer than they are today. Commentators such as Thomas Sowell have documented this decline.

There have been slums and a degree of urban crime for millennia. But American cities generally went from thriving social and cultural centers to, in many cases, places that many normal citizens try to avoid. Lasch does mention how the tax base of cities was eroded by white flight and the loss of industry, and he emphasizes the very valuable role that city neighborhoods once played in the lives of humble citizens. Much of that neighborhood cohesiveness is gone. [16] In my own city, neighborhoods that once were safe and tended to have cohesive Polish, Italian or German populations are now dangerous wastelands.

Decline of personal character

One theme which continues to run through Lasch’s book is the nature of respect and self-respect. We’ve already looked at how American workers, farmers, and craftsmen claimed the opportunity to earn a respectable place in society. This is of course related to self-respect. Lasch goes against the grain of many recent intellectuals by insisting that respect and self-respect must be earned through moral achievement and character. I’ll venture to say that almost all Americans would have agreed with Lasch about this, before modern psychological and teaching theories took effect. [17]

In his chapter, “The Abolition of Shame,” Lasch explores in detail some psychological theories of human shame, and some strategies recommended by psychologists for coping with it. Lasch reveals his concern about a very destructive development: how shamelessness has become widely predominant in our culture. [18] This growing attitude resulted from the increased influence of politicized psychiatrists and psychologists, and the declining influence of Christianity. Lasch reviews how Freudian revisionists in the 1930s began to insist that American society as a whole was in need of psychiatric treatment. With some variation, this general approach of attempting to transform our society has continued to be very influential. [19] Related to the attack by psychologists on human shame was a large push in the 1990s to promote “self-esteem.” Lasch describes how the recently deceased feminist Gloria Steinem got involved in an effort to mix liberal politics with psychotherapy. Steinem’s ideas were implemented as policy in some states. [20]

Higher education, culture, society, and trust

In a chapter on higher education, Lasch bent over backwards trying to be even-handed, in answering concerns about political correctness. He believed that the biggest problem in academia was the growing influence of corporations. That has certainly been a destructive force, eroding the traditional academic model. But while Lasch also criticized far-left ideologues who were becoming very influential in faculty departments, he underestimated the extent of the PC problem, and how pervasively it would subvert and eventually dominate higher education. Since the 1980s, far-left ideology has taken over vast swathes of college faculties and administrations throughout the country. Not only has this resulted in a widespread emphasis on leftist indoctrination of students, but it has also contributed to the lowering of academic standards, and has promoted policies such as DEI. As many other commentators have noticed, the woke tail wagged the corporate dog in many cases. Very significantly, far-left ideas that became prominent in higher education have been embraced throughout the primary and secondary educational systems, and in Human Resources departments, all across America.

Lasch also does not discuss some major influences on American culture and society in the twentieth century such as Alfred Kinsey’s books on sexual behaviour, the 1950 collaborative book The Authoritarian Personality, and Herbert Marcuse and other figures of the New Left. Lasch was very troubled by the breakdown of the traditional family, but in my opinion he did not explore this as thoroughly as he should in Revolt of the Elites – although he did explore threats to the Western nuclear family in another book, Haven in a Heartless World: The Family Besieged.

He also did not delve as much into the loss of social trust as I would have liked. America, along with other Western nations, once had a relatively high-trust society. In many places, we could leave our doors unlocked all the time. We could prop up our unlocked bicycles outside a store, while we went shopping. At a farm stand, we could deposit money in an untended box, to pay for farm produce. And parents could allow their children to play outside unsupervised, without much worry. Such elements of a high-trust society are disappearing. Much of this is a result of increased cultural diversity, which inevitably lowers trust, as the liberal social scientist Robert Putnam finally admitted. Lasch touched on some of the problems of diversity, and mentioned that the market and the welfare state tend to weaken “ties of trust,” [21] but he did not focus on this process.

Cleveland shoppers, 1940 (Ohio History Connection)

Other perspectives

Historian Claes Ryn agreed with Lasch to an extent. In a 2023 interview he said, “The most telling illustration of America’s fraught condition is the inability or refusal of our dominant, trend-setting elites to recognize and act on reality.” He also agreed that there was a major transformation of America in the twentieth century. [22] Yet, back in 1993, anticipating the populism that Lasch favored in Revolt of the Elites, Ryn offered the following warning….

“…[I]t would be a great mistake, especially in our disoriented era, to look to ‘the people’ for sources of purity and social unity. Populism is only another form of escape from the real problem, which is that Western civilization as a whole is disintegrating at the moral center. The people in general may today be less obviously corrupt than the elites in some respects, but that is not because of some natural propensity to virtue greater than that of elites. The mass is just slower to change and lags behind the more daring and creative elites. The people seem culturally conservative today only in comparison with more adventurous leaders. If the mass of common men have such sound instincts, who is digesting all those television programs, movies, records, musicals, and novels? Who is paying all those college and university faculty and electing and reelecting all those congressmen?… John Adams was more representative of early American political thought than Jefferson when he said that the people can be as tyrannical as any king.” [23]

While I agree somewhat with Lasch that “Populism is the authentic voice of democracy,” [24] Ryn expresses some important truths here. It’s undeniable that today’s masses have fallen under the spell of bread and circuses. The whole nature of “the People” has changed since the American founding. John Adams, in 1798, made another applicable remark: “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” [25]

In the 1960s an American scholar, Eugene Rose, studied the decline of the West. He found that our culture, society, and politics had become ill with a deep-seated Nihilism. Having read widely in history, philosophy and religion, Rose believed that elements of this civilizational illness were unprecedented, such as the extent of religious unbelief combined with an unhealthy restlessness, which had grown to “a scale so vast as to be almost universal.” Rose found that: “Toward the end of the nineteenth century increasing numbers of quite ordinary men had begun that restless search – so much a part of our own contemporary scenes – to find a substitute for the God Who was dead in their hearts.” [26]

Rose described four stages of Nihilism that have been especially active in the West since the French Revolution. He called these stages Liberalism, Realism, Vitalism, and the Nihilism of Destruction. They have worked together in a dialectical way, opposing but also embracing each other, to propel the West further into decline and destruction. The cause of these nihilistic developments is the denial of absolute truth.

As he was examining the West’s decline, Eugene Rose found solace and personal healing in the Russian Orthodox Church, and he became a monk. He was given the title of Father Seraphim Rose, and his writings have become influential since his early death in 1982. Christopher Lasch probably would have agreed with at least some of Rose’s diagnosis. For me, Rose provides a more complete and satisfying analysis, but Lasch’s work adds a lot of very important details, specific to developments in America.

Father Seraphim Rose (St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood)

I was surprised that Lasch did not cite James Burnham in Revolt of the Elites. Burnham wrote The Managerial Revolution (1941) and Suicide of the West (1964), which examined and sharply criticized America’s emerging, increasingly dominant managerial classes of the 20th century. Burnham became influential in some American intellectual circles, and his diagnoses are still frequently studied. But, we can’t have everything. Lasch gave us some important, clear insights into how the powers-that-be in America have steered us wrong.

An independent mind

My wife grew up in another country, and I have lost count of the number of times that I’ve told her, “It wasn’t always like this!” I resist looking at the past with rose-colored glasses, but it’s undeniable that we have lost a tremendous amount that was good in America. Zoomers today are often understandably shocked when viewing photographs and documentary film footage of Americans in the past. They see evidence of a safer, more cohesive society, with well-dressed people of all classes showing self-respect and respect for others. Our past wasn’t a utopia, but it offered much that was healthy and good. Lasch would understand.

Lasch leaned politically leftwards during much of his career, but in Revolt of the Elites he said many things which today’s leftists would label “far-right.” His general remedy for America was “to emphasize responsibility rather than rights,” to tame both capitalism and the welfare system, to strengthen community, and to prevent “a centralized state bureaucracy.” [27] He also urged a commitment to past and future generations, and quoted Horace Mann in this regard: “The successive generations of men, taken collectively, constitute one great commonwealth.” [28]

Earlier in his academic career, Lasch used some Marxist approaches in his thought and study. His “paleoconservative” academic friend Paul Gottfried claimed that he was devoted to “a non-mainstream form of socialism.” He had a

lifelong hatred of consumer capitalism…. His project was to find a religiously based communitarianism that could serve as an alternative to multinational capitalism. This communal identity would focus on service to one’s family and neighbors, and it would supposedly take everyone’s mind off consumption and the false idea of “Progress.” He also “personified an old-fashioned Presbyterian way of life. [29]

Lasch angered people on the Left and the Right. Pundits argue about where he really stood on the political spectrum. Anyway, as I’ve written elsewhere, you’re often not doing your job if you don’t make someone angry. Lasch was criticized for inconsistency, but I think that some of the anger directed against him was because he was good at bursting people’s bubbles. Original, independent thinkers like him aren’t completely cast in an ideological mold.

In his scholarship, Lasch studied many thinkers who are not commonly cited by either the Left or the Right today. He examined the ideas of some who were widely known during their lifetimes, such as William Henry Channing, Horace Mann, Daniel Webster, Abraham Lincoln, and Orestes Brownson. He also offered the perspectives of many others who have been less known, including Robert Rantoul, Jr., Charles Ingersoll, David Ramsay, R. H. Tawney, and Michael Young. All of them still have useful, interesting things to say to us – and I hope I’ve shown that Lasch does also.

NOTES

[1] Lasch, Christopher, The Revolt of the Elites and the Betrayal of Democracy, New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1995, p.3

[2] Ibid., pp. 3-4

[3] Ibid., 4

[4] Ibid., pp. 5-6, 80

[5] Ibid., pp. 6-7

[6] Ibid., pp. 7-8

[7] Ibid., p. 39

[8] Haywood, Charles, “The Revolt of the Elites and the Betrayal of Democracy (Christopher Lasch),” Sept. 7, 2021, https://theworthyhouse.com/2021/09/07/the-revolt-of-the-elites-and-the-betrayal-of-democracy-christopher-lasch/

[9] Revolt of the Elites, p. 58

[10] Ibid., p. 167; see also the writings of Sam Francis

[11] Ibid., pp. 162, 164-65

[12] Ibid., pp. 173-74

[13] “Jacinda Ardern’s COVID response created ‘two classes of people’”, Sky News Australia, YouTube, Jan. 22, 2023, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyoJUhZLmDI

[14] Revolt of the Elites, p. 136

[15] Caldwell, Christopher, The Age of Entitlement, New York: Simon & Schuster, 2020

[16] Revolt of the Elites, pp. 8-9, 98-99, 118-19

[17] Ibid., pp. 89, 105, 206-7

[18] Ibid., pp. 204

[19] Ibid., p. 207

[20] Ibid., 208-10

[21] Ibid., p. 102

[22] Ryn, Claes, in “”The Failure of Conservatism and the Road Not Taken” — A conversation with Claes Ryn,” Michael Vlahos Channel, YouTube, May 8, 2023, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JVlF6lCqxI

[23] Ryn, Claes, “Cultural Diversity and Unity,” Chronicles, June 1993 (reprinted June 7, 2018), https://chroniclesmagazine.org/web/cultural-diversity-and-unity/

[24] Revolt of the Elites, p. 106

[25] Adams, John, Letter to the Officers of the 1st Brigade of the 3rd Division of the Massachusetts Militia, Oct. 11, 1798

[26] Rose, Eugene (Father Seraphim), Nihilism: The Root of the Revolution of the Modern Age, St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1994

[27] Revolt of the Elites, p. 113

[28] Revolt of the Elites, p. 146, from Horace Mann, Annual Report of the Board of Education (Massachusetts), X, 127

[29] Gottfried, Paul, “Voices Against Progress: What I Learned from Genovese, Lasch, and Bradford,” Front Porch Republic, Aug. 11, 2009, https://www.frontporchrepublic.com/2009/08/voices-against-progress-what-i-learned-from-genovese-lasch-and-bradford/

Keystone State – Pennsylvania’s place in old and new America

Image: Derek Turner

The widely-travelled American author Bayard Taylor wrote in 1866 about his native region:

The country life of our part of Pennsylvania retains more elements of its English origin than that of New England or Virginia. Until within a few years, the conservative influence of the Quakers was so powerful that it continued to shape the habits even of communities whose religious sentiment it failed to reach. [i]

In my boyhood years of the 1960’s and 70’s, I spent a lot of time in a rural section of Taylor’s Chester County, where my Quaker ancestors settled over 300 years ago, and where some close family members were still living. The farms there seemed well-ordered and prosperous, life moved at a slower pace, and there was a quiet, gentle, modest quality in many of the people whom I encountered. The rolling fields, haunted woods, and centuries-old homes always drew my attention. These landscapes were sometimes lush, and at other times they showed a stark beauty. Andrew Wyeth piercingly portrayed that latter quality in the adjoining Chadd’s Ford region, in “Pennsylvania Landscape, 1941,” and depictions of the Kuerner Farm.

During my teen years, I noticed that the east-coast Megalopolis was encroaching on this area. New housing developments, shopping strips, and busier roads presented glaring, distracting contrasts, but didn’t completely break the spell yet. I learned that utopia means “no place,” and is not a reasonable expectation where any humans go to and fro, but still there had been something special here, independent of but intertwined with my own nostalgia.

One day, around the year 2000, I was driving along an old, sunken Chester County road, a canopy of overarching trees above. I slowed to a stop when I saw a few horses walking across the way ahead. The riders, proceeding to or from a fox hunt, were dressed immaculately in scarlet coats, and they all politely doffed their caps at me as I waited for them to cross. Not a sight that one expects in most of today’s America.

Living a few hours away, in a congested, grimy, industrial city, I still had to remind myself that this rural spot wasn’t a utopia. Sorrow, conflict, poverty – these things, of course, are to be expected everywhere. But there was that pleasing blend of qualities that kept drawing me back to Chester County as an adult, long after my close relatives there had died. Along with the beautiful landscapes and the pleasant old architecture, there was an embattled, intangible something which had lingered on here and there. Compared with other places I had lived, there had been a balance and proportion – order along with freedom, well-preserved nature amid agriculture, and some communities that stayed within a smaller, more humane scale. Was it the same quality that Bayard Taylor had described?

William Penn in 1666

Pennsylvania’s founder William Penn probably wouldn’t have approved of fox-hunting, but he revered the fundamental liberties and rule of law—sometimes violated, sometimes renewed—which Englishmen had inherited since the days of Magna Carta and before. Penn had been a studious, reflective boy, and he acquired an appreciation for history and the classics. He was convinced that substantial elements of liberty, and law based upon consent, stretched back to the Anglo-Saxons, and then further back to some of the Britons who met Julius Caesar. He praised the English who had been “as resolute to keep, as their Ancestors had been careful to make those excellent Laws.”[ii] While urging the protection of that English constitution, along with his concept of “liberty of conscience,” Penn insisted that limits must also be established to preserve peace, civil order, and virtue. According to Penn biographer Andrew Murphy,

Penn’s radical argument for liberty of conscience always sat alongside a conventional, even austere, notion of personal morality. Denunciations of sin and vice went hand in hand with calls for the toleration of conscientious dissent, and the two campaigns mutually reinforced each other.[iii]

Penn’s liberty of conscience meant that English citizens should be allowed to freely seek, worship and meet their own obligations to God, as long as they were not acting treasonably. He worked tenaciously for many years on behalf of his ideals, getting arrested several times in the process. In an England with an established church, following decades of severe religious conflict, liberty of conscience seemed radical and threatening to some, but Penn was no revolutionary. He believed that while all were equal before God, society was naturally hierarchical due to human variation. Along with other Quakers of his day, he valued private property, family, and of course those English liberties. Although Whiggish, and hoping for a more meritocratic society rather than ranks based upon birth, he was loyal to Charles II, and developed a close, friendly, working relationship with Charles’ brother and successor James.

The young Penn had been groomed by his father to rise in the lofty circles of Charles’ court, but he disappointed his parents when he converted to Quakerism as a young man. Quakers were looked upon with suspicion by many Anglicans, and were among the religious dissenters in England who continued to be severely persecuted by Parliament, Anglican authorities, and some magistrates after the Restoration, although Charles and James favored toleration.

Along with that persecution, Penn was troubled by the licentiousness which came out in the open, after moral standards had loosened following Charles’s Restoration. During the social and political unrest which erupted against Catholics and other dissenters in 1678, he wrote to fellow Quakers in England that he feared God would punish the nation for rampant immorality. He also hoped that the virtues of his comrades and other “conscientious and well-inclined people” would “shine unto others, in these uneven and rough times that are come, and coming,” and that God would therefore show mercy. Like the Puritan John Winthrop, who had earlier led the settlement of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, Penn believed that he and his fellow Friends “must show ourselves to be that Little City and Hill of God.” He urged them to resist worldly temptations, and act as good examples:

Let us be careful not to mingle with the crowd, lest their spirit enter us instead of our spirit entering them…. Yet can we not be unsensible of their infirmities, as well as we shall not be free from some of their sufferings; we must make their case as our own, and travel alike in spirit for them as for ourselves.[iv]

Within a few years, Penn had an opportunity to try to make those dreams a reality on a large scale, by forming the new colony of Pennsylvania.

In 1681, as Penn was devising Pennsylvania’s initial constitution and laws, he wrote to settlers already in the colony that, “whatever sober and free men can reasonably desire for the security and improvement of their own happiness I shall heartily comply with.”[v] “Reasonably” was key, and his government would have a significant role to play in buttressing morality. In his Preface to the Frame of Government for Pennsylvania, Penn stated, “Liberty without obedience is confusion, and obedience without liberty is slavery.” His first set of laws for Pennsylvania stated that “offenses against God…, which excite the people to rudeness, cruelty, looseness, and unreligion, shall be respectively discouraged and severely punished.” Such offenses included foul language, drunkenness, fornication, gambling and other activities, as well as crimes such as assault, murder and treason. Clearly, government was to have a punitive role, as well as positively encouraging virtue, yet everything hinged on the nature of the people. Penn also wrote in his Preface, “Let men be good and the government cannot be bad; if it be ill they will change it. But, if men be bad, let the government be never so good, they will endeavor to warp and spoil it.” This was echoed years later by the American founder John Adams, who wrote, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”[vi]

Penn elaborated on why government should circumscribe human behavior: “There can be no pretense of conscience to be drunk, to whore, to be voluptuous, to game, to swear, curse, blaspheme, and profane,” since such behaviors “lay the ax to the root of humane society, and are the common enemies of mankind.”[vii] Not all of us with a traditional bent will agree that all forms of gaming contribute to the undermining of a society, but many of us would agree that Penn’s general principle is sound.

According to historian David Hackett Fischer, there were “comparatively few crimes against morality or order” in Pennsylvania and Quaker New Jersey before 1755:

At the same time that the laws of the Quaker colonies were comparatively mild as regards capital punishment, they punished very harshly acts of disorder in which one citizen intruded upon the peace of another In Pennsylvania, penalties for crimes of sexual violence against women were exceptionally severe. The lash was used abundantly… Something of this Quaker testimony of peace and order entered permanently into the cultural fabric of the Delaware Valley…. Rates of violent crime remained comparatively low. [viii]

English Quakers were not the only inhabitants of early Pennsylvania. Before Penn’s proprietorship, along with Indians, there were Dutch, Finns, Swedes and English Anglicans present. Germans, Welsh and Irish soon arrived. Penn was beleaguered by political discord that arose in his new colony, even within the Quaker communities. His own sometimes combative and disorganized nature didn’t always help matters, nor did his need to spend much time away in England, defending his proprietorship and handling other concerns. Factions formed, ethnic and religious strife occurred, and conflict with neighboring colonies flared and continued for several years.

Is it a stretch to say that Penn’s principles, along with those of his fellow Quakers, helped encourage and maintain that “arcadian” quality that I witnessed? The ethnic and religious troubles in early Pennsylvania subsided eventually, as the English and Protestant culture took root and maintained its predominance for a long while, with that special Quaker influence that Taylor emphasized. In the American colonies, cultural variations among discrete groups of English colonists such as Puritans, Quakers, Cavaliers, and Borderers clearly resulted in regional differences, which continued long after the American Revolution.[ix] The distinctive cultural aspects of the Society of Friends shaped, and were shaped by, Penn’s thought and actions. An important element of the liberty which Quakers offered, and with which they differed from others such as the Puritans, was what Fischer called “reciprocal liberty,” meaning that “every liberty demanded for oneself should also be extended to others.”[x] Penn’s liberty of conscience was one example of this general principle. And along with Quaker political and religious tenets, so many of their social characteristics continued, from their early years in England on into the 20th century. Penn’s appreciation for independent farmers, and a Quaker concern for the responsible use of one’s property, had an impact on the landscape of rural southeastern Pennsylvania. As I studied the Quakers of the 16th and 17th centuries, I was struck by how profoundly they had influenced my parents’ and grandparents’ ways and manners, as well as my own beliefs and preferences ranging from taste in dress to thoughts on social rank to yearnings for quiet, for social peace, and for order.

Historian Bruce Catton remarked that America has long had a significant “rowdy strain” in its population.[xi] This seems true, but from America’s early years onwards there were also those many quieter colonists, who made their own long-lasting cultural impact.

Today, in the counties first established under Penn’s proprietorship, other, rowdier cultural influences sometimes shout down the quiet, modest ideals of the Society of Friends, and the ordered liberty inherited from England. Yet not all the land is covered by concrete. And not all the words of William Penn have been thrown down the memory hole, at least not yet. In 2023, government bureaucrats tried to get rid of a statue of William Penn in a Philadelphia park. A public outcry ensued, which pressured politicians to stop this cultural vandalism for the time being. And although Bayard Taylor’s hometown of Kennett Square has changed substantially, his beautiful home, Cedarcroft, still stands.

Until a few years ago, I sometimes visited a grand, old oak tree on the grounds of the London Grove Meeting House, where Quakers had gathered since 1714. The tree was standing when William Penn was in North America, and I was saddened when I learned that it toppled in 2023. It was partly the loss of a beautiful, stately, historic, and gracious old tree that tugged at me. But was this also an omen, to be considered along with the rampant cultural destruction of recent decades? Then I learned that over the years, many people had collected acorns which that old oak had sired. And after its fall, more people traveled to the meeting-house grounds to collect more acorns, from this tree which had already nourished so many spirits.


i Taylor, Bayard, The Story of Kennett, 1866, https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/8680/pg8680-images.html#link2HCH0024

[ii] Penn, William, England’s Present Interest Considered, with Honour to the Prince, and Safety to the People, 1675, The Political Writings of William Penn, introduction and annotations by Andrew R. Murphy (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2002), https://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/murphy-the-political-writings-of-william-penn

ii Murphy, Andrew, William Penn: A Life, New York: Oxford University Press, 2018: p. 133

[iv] Penn, William, To the children of light in this generation, called of God to be partakers of eternal life in Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, and Light of the World, 1678, https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/evans/N11856.0001.001/1:1?rgn=div1;view=fulltext

[v] Penn, William, “To the Inhabitants of Pennsylvania,” April 8, 1681, The Papers of William Penn, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982, Vol. 2, p. 84

[vi] Adams, John, “To the Officers of the First Brigade of the Third Division of the Militia of Massachusetts,” Oct. 11, 1798, https://oll.libertyfund.org/quote/john-adams-religion-constitution

[vii] Penn, William, An address to protestants upon the present conjuncture in II parts, London, 1679, https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A54098.0001.001?rgn=main;view=fulltext

[viii] Fischer, David Hackett, Albion’s Seed: Four British Folkways in America, New York: Oxford University Press, 1989, pp. 586, 589

[ix] See Fischer for a very interesting, thorough examination of this

[x] Fischer, p. 603

[xi] Catton, Bruce, This Hallowed Ground, New York: Vintage Books, 2012

Village lights: Huck Finn’s world, and ours

WILLIAM MARKLEY feels Twain’s great novel has much to say to our age

The ticking of a clock on a mantelpiece – the joy of eating corn pone after a hard day – lights of a hillside village, seen from a raft on the Mississippi River. Mark Twain’s novel The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn powerfully evokes the atmosphere of a long-ago America. Along with the details and flavours of everyday life, Twain looks at social problems, habits and moral quandaries that were significant before the American Civil War: slavery, mob violence, feuding families, hospitality to strangers, loyalties pulled in different directions. Some readers today will immediately assume how they would respond to such issues if they found themselves transported back to the 1840s. Yet Huckleberry Finn is concerned with timeless questions and inner struggles which aren’t as easily resolved as we might think. These loom large for the narrator Huckleberry, or Huck as he is known to his friends.

I befriended Huck Finn late in life. Although the book was long considered one of the greatest of American novels, it wasn’t among my schools’ required readings. I was a bookworm as a boy, but I avoided stories with children as principal characters. I wanted to read only about adults and their adventures. Little did I know how Mark Twain offered a narrative and a power of description that would grab a reader’s attention. Huck faces his inner dilemmas as he proceeds on an eventful trip along the Mississippi valley – and Twain weaves several unforgettable characters into the story—especially the runaway slave Jim.

I’m very fortunate to have an early-19th century clock. When I hear it ticking and chiming, I marvel at hearing the same sounds which meant something to people in Huck’s day, and which aren’t commonplace anymore. We still have many of the same yearnings, fears, and joys that people had when my clock was made. And yet, as the English novelist L. P. Hartley wrote, “The past is a different country. They do things differently there.”[1] Americans in the first half of the 19th century had serious worries and troubles I don’t have: cholera, Indian attacks, how the crops would fare, and how many children in the family would survive the winter. All of us today make decisions about right and wrong, but I haven’t had to face the predicaments caused by slavery which plagued northerners and southerners.

Back to the book. Soon after Huck flees downriver to escape his abusive father, he encounters Jim, and the two develop a deep affection and appreciation for each other. Yet Huck grew up in a slaveholding society which stamped its values on him. His white family was destitute, without any slaves, but in this society everyone was expected to consider some people as the legal, legitimate property of others. Slaveholders’ rights were held sacred. At times, Huck is remorseful for going against the law and the feelings of Jim’s owner. Conscience for him isn’t the simple matter that it might seem to be, to one raised in a society that preaches egalitarianism or ‘equity.’ On the other hand, his torments resemble what we sometimes experience today when confronted with very different social matters. Ultimately, Huck decides that his loyalty to Jim and his commitment to help Jim find freedom override what society insists that he should do. Agonizing over this, he believes his conscience tells him that he’ll go to hell for this decision. His unsophisticated yet eloquent ruminations are memorable.

Such struggles might have rung true to thoughtful Southerners in the 19th century. Some of the most devoted soldiers of the Confederacy had principles regarding slavery which today’s readers might find surprising. General A. P. Hill was firmly against the institution, and he did not own slaves. “Stonewall” Jackson was very kind to his slaves, and, against the local laws, he devotedly taught them to read and write as part of a special “Sunday School” which he created for them. Some leaders, such as Confederate Vice President Alexander Stephens, believed that they offered their slaves better lives than would be available otherwise. Immediate emancipation might place former slaves in more dangerous conditions than they had lived under previously. Not all slaveowners considered these factors, but it’s undeniable that people of good will in the South found themselves in a situation without simple, easy answers. And over 600,000 men died trying to settle the issue.

While the West made tremendous, praiseworthy efforts in the 19th century to eradicate slavery, it still hasn’t gone away in the world. Various forms of human-trafficking are thriving, as the recent movie Sound of Freedom highlights. Most of us have been insulated from these all-too-hidden crimes, and yet the victims suffer as horribly as any slaves did in earlier eras.

Apart from slavery, there are other prominent moral issues which beg for our attention. We allow schools and other institutions to influence and indoctrinate our children in ways that earlier Americans would rightly find shocking, outrageous and deeply immoral, and we bow down meekly to governmental and corporate forces which our ancestors would have rejected with contempt.

C. S. Lewis aptly warned about the “chronological snobbery” of people who feel superior to those of the past. A prominent feature of ‘wokeness’ is a vicious form of this – an overwhelming disdain for our ancestors, based on historical ignorance and rampant self-regard. The destruction of monuments, memory-holing of politically incorrect writings, and transformation of public schools and colleges into indoctrination centers are among the manifestations – and of course there is the “cancelling” of individuals.

Huckleberry and other characters use coarse language, especially regarding race, which publishers and HR staff would now find shriek-worthy. Yet Mark Twain shows much more compassion, understanding, moral clarity and nuance about race, character and moral dilemma than many modern people will offer. And despite uttering words which would immediately get him cancelled today, Huckleberry clearly shows in his actions, and in his other words, that he loves others, no matter their race. Jim does the same, and is presented by Twain in a rounded way, rather than as an unblemished victim. Like Huck, he admits that he has acted in ways which he deeply regrets. Both characters are curious observers who sometimes think critically, yet sometimes succumb to superstition, as many of us still do. As T. S. Eliot says, Huck and Jim “are equal in dignity.”[2]

One unforgettable episode, while Jim is absent for a time, is a tragic feud between two families. After Huck is nearly killed in a mishap on the river, he is cared for by a cultured family, the Grangerfords. The intriguing Colonel Grangerford is a sympathetic, strong character, but he and several members of his family are urged on by dire imperatives imposed by their clannish local society. In some regions of America, where law wasn’t as firmly established as elsewhere, family and tribal ties and obligations were much tighter than we see today. This could result in feuds lasting for generations, with later participants not even understanding the origins of the violence. In the case of the Grangerfords and their opponents, Eliot noted that Twain allows “the reader to make his own moral reflections.”[3] My own reaction is that while the feud is undoubtedly a terrible folly, some of the Grangerfords show admirable loyalty to their own kin. Today, maybe we have strayed too far from such loyalty. Somewhere there’s a balance that should be sought.

For the most part, America has traveled far away from the kind of clannishness shown by the Grangerfords. We now have widespread rootlessness, and a separation from family and community. Many grandparents, parents and children live in different states, and social media doesn’t offer enough to make up for the distance. Neighbours rarely interact with each other compared with earlier times, when families frequently invited neighbors and even strangers over for a meal. This atomization has obviously grown more extreme with the growth of digital technology, and the influence of mass popular culture. In Huck’s day, the frontier encouraged some similar centrifugal tendencies, while it also offered opportunities to people who needed a fresh start. Mutual-assistance organizations strengthened community ties, even in frontier areas. These have almost completely vanished. A close-knit community can descend into a mob, as shown in Huckleberry Finn, yet something has clearly been lost.

Grimness isn’t the only mood of the book – far from it. And Twain has a way with describing the world of the Mississippi:

“Sometimes we’d have that whole river to ourselves for the longest time. Yonder was the banks and the islands across the water; and maybe a spark – which was a candle in a cabin window; and sometimes on the water you could see a spark or two – on a raft or a scow, you know; and maybe you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. It’s lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them…”

As much as I like the book and find it thought-provoking, a few parts of it are unappealing to me. Huck’s friend Tom Sawyer makes a welcome appearance at first, yet his elaborate schemes for pushing Huck and Jim into 19th-century romantic adventure-novel scenarios become tiresome. Nevertheless, the lyrical passages, adventure narrative, well-drawn characters and realistic, perceptive portrayals of moral questions and resolutions more than make up for any weakness. People act kindly, cruelly and with mixed motives, and in some cases this is all demonstrated by a single character. Like most boys, Huck can be callous, and also kind and generous. In his thoughts he contradicts himself, as most of us do. Along the river he meets murderers, frauds and other unpleasant characters, along with people who are models of charity, and although he and his creator wouldn’t want themselves to be pigeonholed into any particular church or creed, Huck develops a very Christian ability to love his neighbors.

Twain had seen a lot of the world and of people by the time he wrote this book. Born in 1835, he grew up in small Missouri towns, worked a variety of jobs including riverboat pilot, spent time in the American far west, and settled down in the more established east. He knew too much to present simplistic characters and an overly sentimental story. And yet, as critic Fred Pattee wrote, Twain “was a knightly soul, sensitive and serious, a nineteenth-century soul who would protect the weak of the whole world and right their wrongs.”[4] With Huckleberry Finn, Twain shows us a lost world, but he also helps us understand ourselves, if we’re willing to put our smartphones down for a while.


[1] Hartley, L. P., The Go-Between, London: Hamish Hamilton, 1953

[2] T. S. Eliot, “An Introduction to Huckleberry Finn”, in Bloom’s Major Literary Characters: Huck Finn, Philadelphia: Chelsea House Publishers, 2004, p. 20

[3] Ibid, p. 19

[4] Pattee, Fred Lewis, A History of American Literature Since 1870, New York: The Century Co., 1915, p. 61