Into the Great Unknown

What we can say with certainty about the incoming government is that the values it brings into office are antithetical to our own. We know that: it’s a matter of public record, and we understand the fact of it even if we may be unsure of the magnitude of our disagreement. The incoming administration and the new Democrat-controlled Senate will wish to transform the country in ways we loathe. This much is certain.

Beyond that, we don’t really know very much. Systems composed of people are complex, responding and adapting in ways that are hard, often impossible, to predict. Sometimes a single individual, event, or virus can shift the entire political equation in unforeseen ways. We just don’t know; those who speak with certitude about the future demonstrate a lack of wisdom proportionate to their confidence in the predictions they make.

How will the Democrats deal with the deep schism within their own party? Will a 50-50 Senate allow the kind of radical changes many of us fear the Democrats will try to pursue? How long will Biden be able to maintain the fiction that he’s capable of carrying out the functions of his office, and how will his seemingly inevitable departure take place? What will happen in 2022 as a result of what seems likely to be poor decision-making from the Democrats over the next two years? How will our relationship to China evolve and/or deteriorate, given the leverage our adversary quite probably has over Biden’s corrupt and degenerate son?

We don’t know. We could win in a landslide in 2022. The Senate could be stymied by one or two prudent and/or cowardly Democrats who think it wise to avoid doing something so profoundly stupid as packing the Supreme Court, bringing in a new state, or opening the borders. Or they might do everything we fear, and America could be entering a new dark age. For that matter, China could share another virus with us, the next one worse than the current one to which we’ve grotesquely over-reacted.

We don’t know. So the fight goes on.

Don’t burn bridges between yourself and true allies. Find points of agreement on the right and lean into them. Encourage optimism in the face of the unknown. Avoid people who are too quick to accept and preach defeat: they don’t know the future any better than we do, and there’s nothing to be gained, neither strategic advantage nor honor, by surrender.

Be wary of people who argue for strategic losses, who say it’s better to lose the next fight because it sets us up to win later. The future becomes exponentially harder to predict as it recedes in time and as the chain of events lengthens. Fight for the most conservative plausible win in every case, because we really don’t know where a loss will take us. Keep it simple: try to win each battle as it comes up.

Most Americans hear only one side, that of a smug technocratic left ignorant of history and consumed with hubris. It is up to conservatives — people like us — to expose normal Americans to the facts and ideas they won’t otherwise hear, but that they will usually find persuasive because conservatism is closer to the truth, closer to what actually works and has been shown to work.

So now we go into the unknown together. And there are a lot of us.

Rock the Boat

“Make America Great Again”

I never much cared for the slogan, mostly for the obvious reason that I think America remains great and has never not been great. I never much cared for the hat, either: I don’t wear hats, and I’m not a big fan of Trump the man, however much I like his performance in office.

But it seems to me that there’s a serious problem in need of a serious solution, and wearing the iconic orange red cap is, oddly enough, a useful tool for solving it.

The problem is that, in the real world (as opposed to here in the conservative blogosphere or on Fox News), conservatives are well-nigh invisible. The zeitgeist, as portrayed by the the news and entertainment media and most of our institutions, is progressive. Most normal people — people who aren’t political wonks of one sort or another — can go through the whole week without hearing a conservative opinion expressed; they can go a lot longer without hearing one expressed well.

I’ve taken to wearing the hat because it sticks out like a sore thumb, and it communicates, more quickly and effectively than anything else I could wear, that I’m a conservative. It doesn’t say what kind of conservative I am, nor does it reveal whether I’m a hard-core Trump fan (I’m not) or just a guy who is sick to death of conservatives being treated like they are a social disease (yes, that’s it). But everyone who sees it will be able to conclude a few things that I want them to know:

  1. I’m a conservative;
  2. I’m not going to be cowed into silence by the prevailing winds of political fashion; and
  3. if you’re a conservative as well, you aren’t alone.

So I’ll be polite, thoughtful, happy to talk about it with anyone who’s interested, willing to concede the President’s many flaws while nonetheless defending his administration for the many things it’s done well, and an informed and respectful critic of socialism and progressivism and those who, through ignorance or poor judgment, continue to endorse them.

Some will see the hat and leap to the wrong conclusions, but those people were probably already leaping to wrong conclusions, assuming that I’m just like every other silent person who doesn’t rock the boat because he doesn’t think the boat needs rocking.

I’m not going to de-platform myself. I’m going to be counted.