In The Birds, the famous Greek comedy by Aristophanes, a disenchanted middle-aged man, frustrated by his mundane life, convinces the world’s birds to construct an ideal city in the sky called Cloud Cuckoo Land. More than a millennium later, another magical, mythical city was constructed in the fertile mind of Thomas More which he called Utopia, a combination of two Greek words meaning “a good place” and “no place.” Both locations have become shorthand for humanity’s perennial, quixotic search of a perfection that does not exist.
These stories resonate with us because even though we consciously know that perfection is only an alluring fiction, there is a drive within human nature to embrace the possibility of the perfect formula for society— a return to the Garden of Eden. In the world of political ideas, this previously was the dividing line between the left and the right. Liberals, from Rousseau and the French Revolution to Marx and the Soviet Union, were seeking the perfect system. Conservatives, by contrast, understood the flaws in our nature and primarily sought to constrain the negative characteristics of human action and the power of one person or group.
Ludwig Von Mises captured this ancient tension in 20th century language: “(Utopians) invariably explain how, in the cloud-cuckoo lands of their fancy, roast pigeons will in some way fly into the mouths of the comrades, but they omit to show how this miracle is to take place.” As the conservative movement grew in power and influence over the past five decades, it began to let down its guard and skepticism, while gradually embracing the possibility of conservative perfection. Power and influence eroded the movement’s intellectual discipline until it became accepted wisdom that the only requirement to solve any problem is to cut taxes, decrease government oversight and let the market “magically” sort out the rest, in roast pigeon fashion. Unfortunately, as the great historian of liberty, Lord Acton, pointed out, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
Over time, the careful, skeptical evaluation of empirical results gave way to wholehearted endorsement of an overly simplified conservative dogma. Problems no longer needed to be incisively analyzed and systematically solved. Why bother? We all “know” what needs to be done: Apply laissez-faire utopianism, and all will be well.
The trouble is that this linear approach to complex problems has proved to be as disastrous for the right as previous experiments from the left. F.A. Hayek, one of the greatest thinkers in the history of economic liberty, said, “Probably nothing has done so much harm to the (classical) liberal cause as the wooden insistence of some liberals on certain rough rules of thumb, above all the principle of laissez-faire.” Hayek foresaw this problem decades before right-wing utopianism overwhelmed the conservative movement.
Hayek didn’t stop there. In the 1956 edition of The Road to Serfdom, admired on the left and the right, he made prescient observations about the direction of 20th-century conservatism:
Conservatism, though a necessary element in any stable society, is not a social program; in its paternalistic, nationalistic and power adoring tendencies it is often closer to socialism than true liberalism; and with its traditionalistic, anti-intellectual, and often mystical propensities it will never, except in short periods of disillusionment, appeal to the young and all those others who believe that some changes are desirable if this world is to become a better place.”
In a fitting fulfillment of that Hayekian prophesy, presidential candidate Donald Trump declared that he and he alone could magically solve all of America’s problems. Just as Napoleon did two centuries earlier in crowning himself emperor, Trump conferred unto his person all the Utopian qualities that conservatives had grown to expect. And in the midst of their disillusionment with the direction of the country, many bought into his reasoning.
Today, the American political process is stuck between two warring tribes, both metaphysically convinced that their respective Utopian visions of the world are correct. Moreover, the other side is not just incorrect, but evil and sinister. This is the principal reason we have surrendered any attempt at intelligent debate. If your side is correct and the other is grossly mistaken, then any tools that you can employ to defeat this enemy is by definition good. You are in the right, your goal is worthy, your cause is justified. As humans, we all seek certainty in a probabilistic world full of random, unanticipated events and, in our current political environment, nothing provides a feeling of greater certainty than “I am right, and you are wrong.”
In many ways, propaganda-speak, which is the language of Utopians, is just as comfortable and alluring as the possibility of perfection. It is far more emotionally rewarding than intelligent discourse. When employing propaganda-speak, one can completely ignore the complexity of any issue and just focus on a narrow, one-dimensional view of the problem. Further, propaganda-speak doesn’t require one to listen to or respond to the questions of the other side. This is actually a common psychological phenomenon called substitution. When asked a question we don’t like, we frequently substitute a completely different answer that has little, if anything, to do with the question that was asked.
The difference between intelligent discourse and propaganda-speak is distinct. Intelligent discourse begins with facts and evidence, and proceeds to objectively considering all options and systematically determining what works and what does not. Within that framework, there are wide areas ripe for serious disagreement. For example, which facts apply to any given situation, which solutions are viable and which are not, and what needs to be explored further before it is conclusively demonstrated.
The larger point is that propaganda-speak showdowns yield nothing other than a complete reliance on the tired, old, failed Utopian ideas of the past. It will never advance the conversation, and it will never lead to real, durable solutions. At the end of the Greek play, Cloud Cuckoo Land was a smashing success—but bear in mind, that was a comedic world of fiction. In the real world, the impact of our troubled political process has meaningful and serious consequences.