The words conservative and liberal are very slippery words. In different contexts they mean not only different things but sometimes opposite things. As most educated people know, "liberal" arose some centuries ago, mainly in Britain, meaning anti-statist, against the control of central authorities, against mercantilism and against extortionary taxation, military impressment and property expropriation. Liberalism in the American context today means the opposite: more government authority, more taxes, more programs, more de facto if not intentional centralization of political authority.

Conservative used to mean, in its original European context, someone who was pro-monarchical, pro-social hierarchy and pro-established church. That means they were anti-republican (with a small "r"), anti-egalitarian and anti-intellectual in the widest sense of that term. By that definition, there has never really been an American conservatism, because the very founding of America was pro-republican, pro-egalitarian (within certain limits that Madison approved but Andrew Jackson did not) and anti-establishmentarian. (I've always wanted to use that word in an actual sentence, and now I have; what fun!!) In short, our founding was liberal in the original sense of the term. The conservatives among us at the time, the Tories, mostly left for Canada.

Unfortunately, a lot of people who fling the words liberal and conservative around do not appreciate their delicacy, or their etymologies. This matters because one cannot even ask a question like, "Is President Obama--and some "Blue Dog" Democrats, too--in some ways conservative?" without running into a hailstorm of misunderstanding. 

The first common reaction to that question is that, no, it's impossible that Obama could be in any significant way a conservative, because everyone knows that Republicans are conservatives and Democrats are liberals. This is a most unfortunate premise. As noted in an earlier post, President Obama is in some ways inclined to social conservatism because of his own family history. Coming from a broken family, he has built a traditional one for his own family--he has taken them to church (maybe the wrong church, but at least some church), and appears to have insured their capacity for self-discipline and gratitude. (That's actually what prayer at its best is about in any church or house of worship: learning really well how to say please and thank you, not just to God, but to everyone; it's not about asking adult versions of Santa Claus to give you a new car, like maybe you once asked for a new bike.) 

But how conservative might President Obama be? You can't answer that question without a working definition of what a temperamental conservative (and in contradistinction a temperamental liberal) is. And I stress the notion of a temperamental conservative, not an ideological or programmatic one. That's hard to specify anyway, because American conservatism as it has developed over the past century or two really consists of three streams, not all of which meld well with each other: the liberatarian, the "moral majority", and the Burkean streams. 

I think temperamental conservatives have more in common with the Burkean stream than any other, but that, admittedly, is just my view. In any event, here, in very brief form, is my definition of a temperamental conservative. It consists of four parts. 

First, values taken to be intrinsically good in and of themselves do not align in reality, but generally conflict. There are, as Isaiah Berlin used to say, incommensurate with each other--they cannot be measured off and calculated against each other. Creativity and innovation are good, but so is some measure of order and stability. Freedom is good, but so is responsibility toward others in a community. Justice is good, but so is mercy. Music is wonderful, but so sometimes is silence. And so on almost infinitely, with result that the maximization of any one value or set of values will harm others deemed to be equally good. In other words, trade-offs are inevitable. All roads do not lead to the same benign end. There is no end. Temperamental conservatism is above all things anti-utopian in basic disposition. Politics is not about revelation and final victory; it is about learning from cumulative experience and a never-ending need for balance and prudential judgment.

Second, because politics by definition cannot end, there is always the possibility of tragedy. Progress both moral and social-economic is possible but not inevitable. And it is usually slow and difficult: It is harder to build something fine than to destroy something fine. A temperamental conservative will instinctively bristle if he or she hears someone say, "Well, sure why not do that?; things can't get any worse." Things can always get worse, and often do--both because of mistakes people make and because people cannot control all of the influences that impinge on their challenges. 

Third, reason is precious but limited, for there is no denying the passions--the emotional side of human nature. We are not wise enough, individually or in conclave (even within a well-intentioned government!), to find the answers to all our problems, and we are often not able to define or act on them objectively. Science is precious, too, but it cannot resolve moral issues; it can inform us of the consequences of our choices, but it cannot tell us what those choices should be, for those choices cannot be exhausted through the operation of reason alone. (If that were not so you would never have heard the word eugenics, but you have.) Because of this, temperamental conservatives tend to appreciate (at the least) the social value of religion in constraining and directing emotion in society, and tend to be more humble when facing the open-ended moral dilemmas that arise when values equally good clash. 

Fourth, it follows that wisdom, at least when it comes to social life, is cumulative and collective, that it inheres in institutions (properly defined) rather than individuals. Temperamental conservatives believe in metis, a Greek word that, roughly translated, means knowledge that derives from an intimacy with one's own surroundings and experience, that is widely shared within a community, but that is difficult to formalize and transmit to others who are not members of that community. Precisely because wisdom is cumulative and collection, they accept that they owe something both to their forebears and to their progeny. By acknowledging inter-generational responsibility, they become hesitant to overthrow received ways of doing things unless they are certain that news ways really do mark an improvement. They do not oppose change; those who do are better called reactionaries, not conservatives. But they do not assume that all change leads to progress (see premise number two), do not assume they can use reason to know the all consequences of their decisions (see premise three); and do not assume that enhancing some values will have no downside with respect to other values (see premise number one). 

How would a temperamental conservative handle the current economic crisis?  He would understand that there might be a downside to anything he does. He would understand that mistakes can be made, and that bad things can happen despite the best of both intentions and actions. He would understand that there is a limit to how much we can know and predict. And he would understand that it would be bad to overreact, to throw out with what requires change institutional arrangements that do not require overhaul or renovation. 

I think one can make a case, so far at least, that Barack Obama may be something like a temperamental conservative.  I hope he is. In any event, I think we shall see in due course.