Roger Scruton and the Conservation of Culture

Abstract

As a rule, traditionalist conservatism rarely fares well in American political life. In intellectual circles, its adherents rest uneasily at the margins of discussion, occasionally launching a broadside against modernity’s discontents before returning to self-imposed exile in the suburbs— usually living well on the fruits of the very market-driven society for which they express a great deal of ambivalence. Rooted as this sort of ideal is in what we lose in the modern world rather than in an appreciation of the good things it provides, most Americans—and certainly the majority of selfproclaimed conservatives—pay this movement little heed. Traditionalism is also a brand of thinking that at least in America normally fails in making its case as an intellectually serious political position. In a recent review, Alan Wolfe dismissed Russell Kirk (arguably America’s preeminent representative of traditionalism in the last half of the twentieth century), somewhat unfairly to be sure, as a grumbling, emotive proponent of nostalgia for a world that left him behind. Whatever one thinks of this polemical characterization, traditionalists do indeed deal more often in images than in robust philosophical argumentation. They repeatedly assert the failure of modern American life and avoid any serious engagement with opposing ideas. Not so with Roger Scruton. In his recent works, he provides us with not only insight into where our society departs from the good life but also a deeper set of philosophical justifications on behalf of traditionalist conservatism. While he shares the ordinary traditionalist appreciation for the practices of civil society and rests much of the practical importance of his claims upon them, Scruton roots his conservatism in a developed theory of culture and its meaning for any decent political life. This approach sets his work apart from other sorts of traditionalism and makes it a valuable object of study. Above all, Scruton defends the importance of ideas in politics. Of course, acting as a proponent for any ideal opens men up to the possibility of becoming possessed by it; he acknowledges that in the last century, this outcome became all too frequent and dangerous and argues that we should maintain our skepticism about grand theoretical visions that seek global change. Nevertheless, against the militantly anti-ideological conservatism of Michael Oakeshott and his contemporary student Andrew Sullivan, Scruton argues that conservatism should not oppose the existence of ideology; instead, he insists “[i]t is part of conservatism to resist the loss of ideology” (The Meaning of Conservatism, p. 127. Hereafter, I cite the books under review as MC, PP [A Political Philosophy], and CC [Culture Counts]). This Hayekian insight regarding the way ideas help constitute our understanding of reality leads Scruton to note that the question is not whether we live by a system of thought but rather which one. If the concepts we carry with us frame our comprehension of the world, Scruton argues that as a people, we need Soc (2008) 45:557–561 DOI 10.1007/s12115-008-9140-2